Saving Me
by Black-Angel-001
Summary: Warnings inside, sequal to Acts of Desperate Men. Everyone has different ways of dealing with the tough moments. Some use practical jokes, and others pray. But this way of dealing could destroy more than a friendship, it could destroy a life. Now Complete
1. Chapter 1

**Saving Me**

**Black-Angel-001: yes, this is the sequal to 'Acts of Desperate Men', and before we begin, there are a few things i think you should know.**

**Warnings: Extreme mention of drug use/abuse, both past and present, to include alchoholism. Violence, deciet, trickery, angnst, drama, emotional truama and pain ahead. Also theivery. Use caution when reading, as it is mature in nature.**

**Disclaimers: This is a work of fanfiction and anything expressed here is completely from my derainged imagination. I don't own Emergency or anything related to it. I am not a medical proffessional; all medical information/reference will be researched to the best of my ability. If there is a problem, please tell me. I am not a lawyer; all legal information/reference will be researched and what I've learned in classes. If there is a problem, please tell me.**

**Black-Angel-001: now that all the legal stuff's out of the way, let's get started!**

**Saving Me**

_"If everyone cared and nobody cried, if everyone loved and nobody lied, if everyone shared and swallowed their pride, then we'd see the day when nobody died."_ -- Nickleback, _'If Everyone Cared'_

Paramedic John Gage walked out of Rampart General Hospital with his head hanging low and his heart heavy. In the last two weeks, he and his partner had been on over a dozen runs and on nearly every one they had lost the patient. They had lost them before, but this was different. This time around it was nearly every shift, nearly every run, someone was dieing right under their hands. It hurt to loose them, and it hurt even more to know that no matter what you did, could do, or would've done, they still would have died. Roy had told him that the first time, and the second time, even the third time, but after that, he stopped saying it. Maybe he figured saying it was bringing bad luck, or maybe he was tired of saying.

Maybe he just plain didn't believe it anymore.

John looked up at the sky, clear and blue and beautiful. The wind blew hard and cold and he shivered but didn't pull his jacket tighter around him. Instead he went to the squad and leaned against it, hands in his pockets.

"Johnny."

He raised his eyes to his partner, who had his own mixed expressions showing on his face. He hoped Roy wasn't about to give a pep talk, because he really didn't need it right then. He just wanted to go back to the station, eat lunch, and crawl under his bed until the next run, or, preferably, the next shift.

Whatever Roy may have said was lost on a sigh and shake of the head. "Never mind. C'mon." They climbed into the squad and drove to the station in silence.

The whole crew noticed their quiet and somber demenor when they came in, and knew what was causing it. They didn't try to say anything encouraging, or make a joke, but just put their lunch out for them and quietly went back to what they were doing before.

The silence was killing Roy. He wasn't used to a firehouse being so quiet, especially with this crew, and it just wasn't something that made him feel better. He needed a distraction, something to make him feel lighter so when he thought about it later, he could deal. With a sharp pull of his heart, he felt the loss of his wife again. He used to talk about bad runs with her, and it helped him get through. Now, he had no one to talk to about it, besides himself. He snuck a glance at his partner. Johnny was picking at his food, staring at some spot on the table. Roy knew Johnny needed the silence to think things out, because if he got distracted he'd never deal with it properly. But Roy wanted noise of some kind in the background.

_Lord, why did it have to be so bad these past few weeks?_

God remained silent.

When the klaxons went off, Roy actually sighed in relief. Johnny shot him a look that he didn't catch in time to decipher, but he had a good idea what it was for. Why was he so happy about going on a run to a burning building when the dark cloud of death was hanging so heavily over their heads?

Through the entire ride, both of them prayed that they would all make it home.

The building was fully involved when they got there, firefighters already trying to get it under control while police kept the civillians back. Roy pulled the squad up a ways ahead of the rig and Mike drove on ahead, hose trailing behind.

Everyone was put to work on getting the fire out, leaving no time to think beyond their orders. A flash went through the old apartment building, knocking men to the ground. Without really knowing he was doing it, Johnny sprinted to the men, ignoring or not hearing the calls of Roy and Kelly behind him. A second flash exploded out of windows and doors, stronger than the last one. Johnny felt himself lift off the pavement and actually thought everything had paused before he hit the ground, hard. He didn't hear the snap of bone, but he felt it.

Roy crouched when the second flash roared to the firemen near the building, and looked up just in time to see his partner hit the road, bounce once, then lay still, moving his arms and a leg weakly. With Kelly and Marco just inches behind him, he ran to Johnny, thinking the worst but hoping for something different.

His ears were ringing, his vision was hazy. Someone was leaning over him, but he couldn't focus long enough to figure out who. Something touched his foot and he made a sound. He was lifted and for a minute he thought there had been another flash, but then the touch of hands registered. Slowly, his hearing and vision cleared until he could make out the still fuzzy image of his partner.

"Johnny? Johnny, can you hear me? C'mon, junior, focus on me," Roy said calmly. He didn't feel calm, he felt like reading his partner the riot act and shaking him till his teeth rattled. What the hell was the brilliant idea behind that bone headed stunt? Johnny blinked slowly, his eyes wavering between Roy and somewhere over Roy's shoulder.

"Gage, look at me," DeSoto said firmly and with all the authority he had in him. Johnny responded to it. Roy didn't think he had a concussion, since he pupils weren't dialated and reacted normally, but he did believe that Johnny was stunned. To his right, Kelly was setting up the biophone and Marco was pulling out the BP cuff and stethascope.

"Hey, lemme up," Johnny said weakly, swatting at Roy and Marco. "I don't need all that stuff." He pushed himself up on one elbow only to be pushed back down by Roy.

"Johnny, you were picked up at least two feet off the ground, you're hurt, and you're going to Rampart, so just get quiet and relax, will ya?"

"I am not hurt," protested Johnny, a little stronger now. "And how can I relax when you've got Chet doing a Dr. Jeckell Mr. Hyde impersination on me?"

Chet did a dark laugh that only made Johnny frown and squirm. Roy pushed his shoulders back down then casually went to his left ankle and pressed on it gently. Johnny flinched back and yelped.

"Not hurt, huh?"

"J-just a scratch," he panted through the pain. Roy probed again, this time more for medical purposes than proving a point purposes.

"A scratch? Your ankles broken, fractured at the least."

Johnny groaned and put an arm over his eyes. "No, it isn't." Maybe if he kept telling himself that it would be true?

"Johnny," warned Roy, grabbing the splint.

"I've had worse," he muttered. Except for the tiniest sounds of pain when Roy splinted his ankle and they put him on the gurney, Johnny didn't say anything else. Only when they were in the ambulance and five minutes away did he start talking.

"Hey, Roy, what happened to the other guys?"

"Martin said that the worst was some glass stuck in a guy, some minor burns." Roy didn't tell him that the glass had hit an artery and the man had been bleeding badly and was going deeper into shock by the time they put him on the ambulance. Satisfied with that, Johnny nodded and leaned back again.

It was the usual routine when they got to Rampart. Early checked his head, palpaited his abdomen, checked for broken bones everywhere else, then started poking and proding his ankle. By the end of it, Johnny was ready to scream, cry, and break Early's ankle just to see how he liked it when someone did that to him. The x-ray tech came in, and Early and Roy went out, talking and chuckling.

Finally, the tech was leaving and the door pushed open to reveal Roy, Brackett, and Dixie just outside the doorway.

"Doc, how's that fireman that came in? The one with the major bleeding," asked Roy, not thinking about Johnny being able to hear.

Brackett paused, still holding the door open, and shook his head. "I'm sorry, Roy. He didn't make it. Just too much blood loss."

Roy's eyes widened just a fraction before they lowered. He raised them again and saw Johnny sitting up and staring at them, his own eyes big and wide in his face. The look he gave Roy was a little discortning.

**Black-Angel-001: so, this is the big setup. more to come!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Saving Me**

**Black-Angel-001: i loves you all!!! -glomps the reviewers- you guys are awesome, with your awesome reviews!!! thank yous!!!!**

**Saving Me**

_"Prison gates won't open up for me, on these hands and knees I'm crawlin, oh I reach for you."_ --Nickleback, _'Savin Me'_

His ceiling needed to be painted.

This realization came hours after his second one, that his walls needed to be painted. His first realization was that a broken ankle was worse than a broken leg because at least with a busted leg you couldn't feel anything from the knee down. An ankle had pain radiating from just twitching a muscle in the leg or the foot.

He'd never admit to it, even under oath, but sometimes he did twitch a muscle, just to feel that pain so he wouldn't think of other things.

Johnny still had nightmares from when Joseph Campbell had knelt over him and tried to choke the life out of him. Every now and then, it would get real bad and he couldn't sleep at all. Put that together with the rough few weeks he'd had at work, and it was bad. But now with an injury that kept him on a couch, John Gage was a mess. Every time he closed his eyes, he'd either see Campbell, with that maniac grin, or a patient, staring up at him with wide, helpless, and accusing eyes, blood everywhere. They begged to know why he couldn't make them well, why he just let them stay broken.

_And all the kings horses, and all the kings men, couldn' put Humpty together again._

Now, though, he had something else on his mind, as if he needed that. A fireman had died at the same run he'd been hurt at, and Roy hadn't told him how bad it was.

'Maybe he hadn't known that the fireman had been seriously hurt', reasoned part of his brain.

He knew, Johnny was sure of it. Roy made sure he knew about every the severity of every injury, or at least he tried to. Sometimes he never found out, but more often than not he knew; his seniority plus his skills made him the go to guy for practically everything.

Need an IV started? Call DeSoto. Got a difficult breathing case? No problem, DeSoto can handle it. Oh, someone has to jump up five feet into a burning building to save someone? Hey, why don't you call Roy DeSoto, the fireman/paramedic who's greater than Superman himself!

Johnny groaned and scrubbed his face with his hands. He had defiently hit an all time low, thinking about his partner like that. But, on a certain level, it was true. If anyone needed anything, first aid, help treating a patient, an ear to talk to, hell, just a fucking cup of sugar, you called Roy. Everyone liked him, respected him, followed his lead. John hit the top of his couch forcefully, gritting his teeth. DeSoto was so freaking perfect, wasn't he? Didn't have a black mark on his soul at all-

Johnny silently went out the door, pausing only long enough to look back in time to see Roy's head fall into his hands, his shoulders shaking.

It was the pain, he decided. The pain and lack of sleep. He looked over to the coffee table and stared at the bottle sitting there. For a minute, he thought about Alice in Wonderland, when Alice had found the bottle with the note that said, 'Drink Me'. Johnny grabbed the bottle and held it up, studying the pills. Early had prescirbed him painkillers, never really thinking Johnny would actually take them. He looked at the lable. Codeine, or Tylenol 3 as it was more commonly known. A mild painkiller, used for just about anything and everything. Doctors tended to hand this stuff out like it was candy. He popped open the bottle, shook out two, and dry swallowed them. Then, he sat back to wait for the pills to kick in.

Roy checked the supplies against the list again, confirmed that it was right, then handed it to Dixie to sign.

"Miss McCall, here's the bloodwork on the patient in room 4," a familiar voice said. Roy turned his head and smiled.

"Karen, hi."

Karen looked at him and smiled back. "Hello Roy, you're looking better from the last time I saw you," she said, looking him up and down. "How's your kids?"

"Good, can't wait for the school year to end officially." Karen laughed.

"But it just got started!"

"That's what I keep telling them," chuckled Roy.

"I don't see your partner, Johnny. Is he okay?"

The smile left Roy's face. "He got hurt at a fire two days back. Nothing really bad, just a broken ankle, but," he trailed off for a minute then continued quietly. "But I'm worried about him. He's been really quiet lately, and I think he isn't dealing with some bad runs very well. And I didn't help much when I didn't tell him how bad another fireman was injured," he stopped, shaking his head. "Sorry, I don't mean to dump this on you; you don't need it, you hardly even know me!"

Karen smiled softly, reassuringly. "I took your blood many times so I know you well enough." She touched his arm lightly. "And the best person to talk to is a stranger. Means that they'll see things with objectivity."

Roy's smile came back. "Thanks, Karen, I mean it."

The petite woman blinked and shook herself, brisk and bussiness again. "Anytime. Bye." Without waiting for a response, she strode purposfully down the hallway to the elevator. Roy stared after her, amusement playing in his eyes.

Dixie watched him a minute. "You look like Johnny."

That snapped him out of his stupor. "That's not funny," he said in parting. Dixie's laugh trailed behind him.

Johnny closed his eyes tight then opened them quickly. He felt weird, like he was weightless and floaty. His brain was numb and he couldn't form a single coherant thought. When he moved it felt like someone else was doing it, not him. The best part, was that he wasn't thinking about Campbell or the dead patients, or Roy or anything. He wasn't thinking period, and that was a huge relief. With a smile of dreamy contentment, he waved his hand in front of his face and giggled at the weird sight it made. Yes, not thinking was defiently a huge relief, one he could live with.

**Black-Angel-001: so, that's the end of chapter two. the end of a semester, finals, prep for grad, and the holidays are time consumers, so please be patient....er. patienter. yeah. ...... is that a word?**


	3. Chapter 3

**Saving Me**

**Black-Angel-001: for those who see where this is going and don't like it, you're gonna not like it even more the farther we get along. so, fair warning, abandon ship now while the going is good, if you desire.**

**Saving Me**

_"Well I'm terrified of these four walls, these iron bars can't hold my soul in."_ --Nickleback, _'Savin Me'_

Johnny went back to work weeks after the fire. He walked out of the locker room with a light step and a cheery expression on his face. No one knew what caused the change in demeanor, but they were glad for it. The shift leaving slapped his back and gave a few smiles, leaving Johnny slightly confused about why they did it. He poured some coffee, leaned against the counter, and took a careful sip.

"Ah," he said with satisfaction. "It's good coffee, Mike."

"Thanks," replied Mike. Roy came in, took in the scene, and hung his head a little. Johnny's cheery face faded a little.

"Uh, Johnny, can um," he cleared his throat. "Can I talk to you a minute?"

"Sure." Gage reached around and put down his coffee, folding his arms over his chest. "Start talking."

More throat clearing. "Uh, in private?"

With a huff of breath, Johnny pushed away from the counter and took the lead out the door. Four sets of eyes trailed Roy's back. They walked out into the bay and stood somewhat awkwardly with each other. Johnny refolded his arms over his chest, waiting.

After a few minutes of silence, Johnny said with a hint of impatience, "Well?"

"I'm sorry about at the fire. I should've told you myself, not let you hear it second-hand like you did." Roy shuffled his feet.

"Why didn't you tell me in the ambulance?"

"Honestly, I was thinking more about your injuries than anything else. Wether or not you'd hit your head too hard on the pavement, if you'd been cut with glass, if you'd broken ribs that had punctured something. It just didn't seem like the thing to tell your injured partner on the way to the hospital."

"So when were you going to tell me? When you called to tell me about the service for him," snapped Johnny irritably.

"No," said Roy sharply, eyebrows furrowing together. "I would've...I...I don't know when exactly I would have told you. But I would have, Johnny." Roy took a step forward, eyes pleading with his friend to understand. "I really am sorry that you found out the way you did, and that I didn't tell you."

Johnny studied Roy's profile, taking in his posture and expression. He smiled softly. "Okay. Apology accepted, pally."

Roy smiled, relieved. Coming off a few bad weeks like they had been, Roy had been worried about Gage's reactions to things. He could have easily seen this as a betrayl of trust.

"Thanks."

They didn't speak of it again.

As the day went on, Johnny got edgier and edgier. He snapped at the guys, once at a patient, and nearly got into a knock out drag out with Dr. Morton at the hospital. Whatever had caused his good mood that morning was gone, and everyone was getting sick of his attitude. Because of Johnny's temperment, Roy was loosing his own patientce, which was used up quickly by the end of the shift. Roy had tried to get Johnny to tell him what was wrong, but Johnny blew him off, made excuses, and finally told him to shut up and leave him the hell alone. Before they went to change for the end of shift, Roy cornered Johnny and told him that whatever his problem was needed to get fixed quick, fast, and in a hurry, before the next shift. If he needed help, call. Johnny still denied anything was wrong, so Roy threw his hands up in the air and walked away. He would try again tomorrow.

Johnny pulled out his shirt with hands so shaky, he nearly dropped it. He gritted his teeth and wiped the forehead. He was jittery, he needed to calm down. He made it home to his apartment, went to the fridge, and studied the few bottles of beer there. After a pause, he looked over his shoulder to the small bottle of pills sitting on his coffee table. Slowly he walked over there and sat on the couch, staring at it. He picked it up, shook it, counted how many pills were there.

In a bottle of 34, he had 12 left. He opened the lid and shook out four. He put them back in the bottle, set it down. Picked it up, shook it around. He took out four pills again, swallowed them roughly.

'My ankle hurts again,' he told himself. 'It's just until it stops hurting.'

That night, he had a dreamless sleep.

**Black-Angel-001: sorry it's short, i'll seriously try to write more next chapter. see you guys later, i'm heading to new orleans! -dances to 'when the saints go marching in-**


	4. Chapter 4

**Saving Me**

**Black-Angel-001: hello loves, i'm baaack! ah, n'awlins was great, awesome city. check it out if you can! now, pickin' up where we left off....**

**Saving Me**

"_All I need is you; come please I'm callin'. And oh, I scream for you; hurry, I'm falling_." --Nickleback, _'Savin Me'_

He was late. Roy looked at the clock again, then sighed. Johnny was an hour late. Why? He'd been acting so weird; first he was snappish and jittery a week ago, then he was just plain jittery. Or was it nervous? He kept looking around, like someone was waiting or watching him. While Johnny did have a tendancy to think some people were out to get him, he never actually was paranoid. He would disappear at the hosptial for longer than usual, he was chasing nurses again. As far as Roy knew, Johnny and Reia were still together. Now, Johnny was an hour late for work, something that had never happened before. Sure, the young paramedic was sometimes late, but never more than ten minutes, and it was usually because of traffic then.

"Roy, has he shown up yet," asked Hank as he walked into the dayroom.

"No, not yet." Roy shook his head.

"Well, when he does finally deign to show up, I want him in my office. The only excuse he can have for not appearing is going on a run." That said and a cup of coffee in hand, Stanley went back to his office, annoyance and worry showing through his movements.

"Johnny, where are you," DeSoto whisphered to himself.

It was another hour before Johnny came in, rushing around like a chicken with it's head cut off. Roy and his temporary partner were out on a call; cap had to bring someone in after thirty minutes had passed, or take the squad out of service. He couldn't do the latter, since there were already two other squads in that postion, and they would have more calls than usual. Gage ran into Marco coming out of the locker room. Johnny gave him a sheepish embarressed smile. Marco just shook his head and walked on. He went into the dayroom. Chet sprang up from his seat.

"John, man, what the heck happened? You're two hours late, Cap is fit to be tied, Roy's mad and worried, we're mad and worried, you've never done this before! I mean, this is bad! Was something wrong? Why didn't you call? I mean, one of us would've-"

"Kelly, after Gage talks to me, he can talk to you," interrupted Stanley. With a firm look at John, he said, "My office. Now."

Johnny followed behind him like a little kid about to be scolded. Without being told, Johnny closed the door behind him and took a seat. Hank regarded him for a moment, the anger coming back fresh now that the worry was eased a little at seeing his man alright.

"Let me tell you the severity of your situation. You're two hours late. You didn't call or make any kind of apparent effort to notify myself or the department where you were and/or what was wrong. At the very least, you're looking at a letter of reprimand. John," he said, leaning forward and putting his elbows on his knees, hands spread out. "What happened?"

Johnny had sat quietly through his captain's words, but now took a deep breath. "I am very sorry, Captain Stanley. My car was having some problems starting this morning, but I didn't think about it until it just up and quit on me before I was even halfway here. I was too focused on trying to fix it to remember to call anyone about what was happening. By the time it was going again, I was two hours late and, well," he trailed off for a few seconds before ending with, "I really am sorry."

Stanley looked him over again. He sighed, leaned back, and rubbed his eyes. "Okay, Gage. I'm gonna think about this, talk with Roy, and when I've decided what will happen, I'll tell you before shift is over."

Johnny's cool and calm disappeared in a second. "What," he practically shouted, jumping up. "Why on earth would you talk to DeSoto about my being late?"

Hank stared up at his youngest crew member with shock. John was prone to outbursts, but nothing like this. "Sit down right now." With some hesitation, John did. His leg bounced up and down with angry energy. "I'm your captain, and as such I don't owe you any kind of explination, especially not when you pull that crap." Johnny looked away, but Hank didn't think it was from shame or remorse. What the in the hell was wrong with him? "As a proffessional courtesy, however, I will tell you why I'm going to talk to DeSoto. I'm gonna talk to him because he's the senior member of your team. I'm gonna talk to him because whatever decision I make regarding your reprimand will affect your job, somehow, and I need to plan on what to do to prevent it from hindering that job. That's why I'm going to talk to DeSoto, Gage."

Johnny refused to meet Hank's eye as he nodded. His leg still tapped.

"Get out of my office," Hank said in clipped tones. His abrubt swinging away to face his desk added to the dismissal. Stiffly, Gage walked out.

The squad was in the bay when he came out and, hearing the voices from the dayroom, headed in that direction. Without looking at anyone, he told Roy the captain wanted to see him. Message coldly delivered, he walked to the latrine.

What the hell, he thought angrily, washing his face in the sink. He wasn't some rookie that needed to be checked up on, and he sure as fuck wasn't some kid that needed to be babysat. So he was two hours late, fine. He would take the write up and move on. Why couldn't they? Why did Stanley have to drag DeSoto into it? He growled in frustration. Great, and now his impervious, perfect partner would ride him about it all day. He'd already gotten the lecture, he didn't need another. God, he was pissed for--

There Johnny paused. Why was he pissed? Just because Stanley was going to talk to DeSoto about what was going to happen? He blinked and stared at his reflection in the mirror. But, Hank had always talked to Roy about when what his punishment would be for some stupid move on his part. And, the few times it had happened, Johnny had come out of it with latrine duty for a month or restrictions. Nothing as serious as what the cap would say he was going to do.

He thought about his behavior the last few minutes in Hank's office and groaned, gently banging his head against the glass. Somehow, he didn't think a month of latrine duty was gonna be in the cards. Had he just committed proffessional suicide? He heaved a heavy sigh when he heard Roy's voice and leaned away from the mirror. Roy opened the door, looked in, paused when he saw Johnny, then slowly walked in and sat down on the bench. Neither of them said anything for awhile.

"So," opened Johnny, "how deep did I step in it?"

"Pretty deep." Roy folded his hands together and looked at them. "Cap told me why you were late. Then he told me about your outburst and attitude after."

Recalling it again, Johnny groaned and leaned his forehead back against the mirror above the sink. "I am such an idiot," he whisphered.

"Yeah. But it isn't being held against you." At that, John's head snapped up and he whipped around to face Roy.

"What? You mean, he's not gonna get me for that blatantly obvious display of misconduct and disrespect of a superior?"

"Not officially, no." Roy ran a hand through his hair. "Give it about an hour, then go talk to him."

"Come on Roy, tell me what I'm in for," pleaded Johnny. His partner shook his head.

"Sorry, I don't even really know for sure. I can't say if he'll take my recomendation or not, and no, I won't tell you what I recommended."

Knowing there was no way for him to get it out of Roy, Johnny nodded and hung his head. A warm, friendly hand fell on his shoulder. Johnny looked up.

"Are you okay?"

Gage choked out a laugh. " No, I'm not okay. I probably just ended my career in firefighting."

"I'm not talking about that. I mean, are you okay from this morning? I know your car was having trouble, but I didn't know if you were alright or not."

Realizing the worry, Johnny reassured Roy that he was fine, just smacking himself for dealing with Stanley the way he did. Eventually, Roy left Johnny alone again. He went and sat on a bench and yawned.

The nightmares were back, worse than before; he shuddered just thinking about them. Johnny couldn't understand why, he had thought he'd gotten rid of them for good. But, Campbell's face still stared down at him, patients still pleaded with him, and sometimes, they joined Campbell in trying to kill him. John had lost count of the number of times he'd woken up gasping for air in the dead of night, a scream barely making it through his lips. What was it that made them go away?

Johnny didn't want to talk to Roy about it, he had way too much to deal with anyway. Besides, how would it look if Johnny went to him with that? Roy must have gotten over it himself because he never talked about it. He didn't seem to be loosing sleep every night. In fact, Roy went on like nothing had happened in the past three months except for Joanne's death. Johnny couldn't deal with the rejection and scorn he might face from his shiftmates, especially his partner, if they found out he couldn't handle his job.

He thought about what made the nightmares disappear. Eventually, he realized. The pills! They made him sleep through the night, with no dreams! His happiness at his epiphany faded when he had another one. He could only get them through prescription. He frowned. He didn't have anymore Tylenol 3, he'd finished it a few days ago.

The klaxons went off on a thought he had. It was a gamble, but for dreamless, peaceful sleep, without the torment he would get from the guys, it would be worth it.

**Black-Angel-001: merry christmas, happy holidays, and happy new year!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Saving Me**

**Black-Angel-001: sorry i couldn't get this to you guys sooner, but y'know. anywho, here's where we find out what johnny's planning to do....maybe. i think. pretty sure. yeah.**

**Saving Me**

_"Show me what it's like to be the last one standing, and teach me wrong from right, and I'll show you what I can be."_ --Nickleback, _'Savin' Me'_

When Roy and Johnny arrived at the scene, two police units were already there. The door was open, and in the living room an officer was applying pressure to a bleeding wound. He glanced up at the paramedics with a grime expression.

"It's clear, come on." With quick steps, Roy was next to the cop and pulling out bandages from the box while Johnny pulled out some IV's, and set up the biophone.

"What've we got?"

"Robbery gone bad. Suspect shot the woman, neighbor heard the shot, called us. We called you."

"Okay, you can let up now," said Roy as he pressed on the wound. "Johnny, can you get the BP? I can get the pulse and respiration."

"Yeah, sure." Once they had the vitals and had applied more pressure to the injury, Johnny put in the call to Rampart, where Dr. Brackett ordered an RL IV, MS, and treatment for shock. Medications were administered, and once the ambulance arrived, they transported her.

The ambulance pulled up to Rampart's ER, and the patient emerged with Roy pumping more fluids into her, while the gunshot wound in the abdomen continued to ooze red. An attendant was squeezing the air bag to help her get air. In the twenty minutes it had taken to get to the hospital, the woman's vitals had dropped steadily, a testimate to the blood loss and shock. In a treatment room, Brackett took control, ordering another IV to be started, a blood sample drawn for type and cross match, and a surgicl team to be put on standby. The effort to keep the patient stable enough for surgery ended when she went through the doors to take her there. Brackett sighed and wiped at his hands.

"Doc, what do you think her chances are," asked Roy while he too wiped blood from his palms. Some of it was dry and took longer to come off.

"I'm not entirely sure, but I'd say good. She never went into cardiac or respiratory arrest, you made sure she was getting fluids, kept pressure on the wound, kept her ventilated. With a little skill and a lot of luck, she should walk out of her in a few weeks."

Roy nodded and said his goodbyes to Brackett, scrubbing harder at his hands. He looked up and around the treatment room, realizing for the first time that it was just him and a nurse in there.

"Excuse me," he said to the nurse. She paused in her cleaning and looked at him, offering neither a smile or kind expression. "Have you seen my partner? Johnny?"

There was a blank expression before it came to her. "Oh, yes. He said he was going to go upstairs to look in on a friend who was a patient here." She offered no more and went back to picking up gauze, tape, and other items.

Roy frowned in thought. As far as he knew, Johnny didn't have any friends in the hospital. Then again, he had plenty of friends outside of work, so it could be true. With a rueful shake of his head and a smirk, he tossed his rusty red towel into a basket nearby and walked out the door.

"I'm telling you, we can't do it! We need a tenor and we don't have one," an irritated male voice exlaimed in the hallway. Roy turned to the sound of the voice and paused, stunned.

"But what choice do we have? We don't have time to get someone this last minute, and I'd hate to dissapoint so many kids by cancelling," another male voice said, this one kind of sad.

"Hey," Roy called, walking up. The three men turned to him and did some pausing of their own, jaws slightly loose.

"DeSoto!" They met halfway and a round of hugging and back slapping ensued. People passing or sitting in the waiting room watched with amusement and some curiosity at the sight of three grown men in brightly colored tweed suits embraced a fireman.

"What the heck are you doing here," asked the one who had been irritated just a few minutes ago. Roy chuckled.

"I work here. Sometimes," he amended, pointing to his nametag, which proclaimed him a paramedic.

"Y'know, I'm not surprised you got into that gig." The other two nodded their heads.

"I think I'm the one who should be asking what you're doing here, Jeff, Mikey, Derek." He looked at each man in turn.

Mikey, the tallest of the group and the irritated one, chuckled and grinned, putting an arm around the other two. "We're here to perform to the starving masses." Derek, the smallest and quietest, elbowed him in the side. "Ouch!"

Jeff rolled his eyes. He was about Roy's heigth and build, and used his sturdy frame to his advantage when he had to. "That's some kind of thing to say, considering we're gonna perform for some kids in chemotherapy who look like they're starving."

Roy had to agree with Derek.

"Okay, so it was bad to say. But, we are here to perform. Or, we were," Mikey said with a mild glare at Jeff.

With a dejected sigh, Jeff hung his head. "Yeah, I guess so."

Derek rolled his eyes and looked heavenward, as if saying a prayer, and said in a quiet voice, "Roy's here," as if that said it all.

Jeff's head sprang up and his blue-green eyes glinted with new hope. "Yeah, he is." He stepped closer to the fireman. "So, Roy, old buddy old pal o'mine," he began in a sweet 'I'll do anything for you if you do this for me' voice, "got a few minutes?"

"What?" Roy had kept up with his friends from the high school barbershop, and knew they performed every now and again, for retirement homes, social events, hosptials, the like. He hadn't been with them, his career in the Army and his subsequent trip overseas preventing it, then his family once he got home, but he'd heard they were alright, even after all these years.

"Roy, if you've got the time, will you perform with us for some sick kids," asked Mikey, straightforward and to the point as always.

"Well..." Roy trailed off as he looked down the hallway to the elevator. If Johnny was visitng a friend, he'd be a while. Roy had the radio, it was close to lunch. It was a blantant disregard for his job and duty though. He looked back at his old schoolmates faces. Mikey was expectant of his refusal, Jeff was expectant of his acceptance, and Derek would accept Roy's descision either way.

"How long is a few minutes," he finally asked, sighing.

"Just one song, that's all," jumped in Jeff, sensing Roy's consent. Roy sighed again, looked back at the elevator, then held up a finger. Not waiting for their consent to hold on a minute, he walked towards the nurses station, where Dixie was sitting and reading something.

"Dix, I'm gonna be up in the pediatric oncology department for a few minutes. When Johnny comes down, tell him that's where I'll be, or at the cafeteria."

Dixie raised a slim eyebrow. "What in the world are you going to do in pediatric oncology?"

"I'm not sure yet, but I regret it already," he replied dryly as he walked away. "Okay, I'll help you. Just tell me I don't have to wear one of those," he told his friends, pointing to their suites with obvious disdain.

"We don't have another and trust me, I wouldn't want to wear this too, I've just been threatened." Mikey pulled on his tie.

The short walk to the elevator and the even shorter ride to the oncology floor, and two steps to the left took them to the pediatric department. In a large room filled with exam chairs, tables, books, blankets, and other childrens things, children battling a variety of cancer were getting their treatments, or wating for it. Parents held their children, reading to them or coloring with them. The atmosphere was quiet, and almost somber. A nurse walked up to them, and Roy knew her immediatly.

"Karen! What are you doing here?"

Karen started and gazed at Roy with some disbelief. She didn't always run into the goodlooking (very goodlooking, if she were completely honest with herself) fireman, but the times she did were a treat. She just didn't expect to see him there, of all places.

"I'm drawing blood," she said in a tone that implied 'Of course', but with a great amount of humor. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm not entirely sure yet, but I am scared." Looking him over, Karen could believe it. The poor man almost looked like a condemed man going to his execution without knowing how he was going to die.

"Aw, c'mon, Roy, it won't be bad," said Jeff, patting Roy's shoulder. It just made Roy look worse. Karen looked at the three men behind and flanking Roy, alternatively, and realized who they were.

"Oh, you're going to be singing, aren't you? Sarah, the nurse on duty, told me about it." Jeff grinned charmingly and Roy rolled his eyes. The only difference between Johnny and Jeff was that Jeff flirted with every girl and their mother. At the same time. While seeing a girl.

"That's right. And you are...?" He let his voice trail off seductively. Karen smiled sweetly and Roy was amazed. Did she actually fall for that? Didn't she have more sense?

"Too far out of your league," Karen replied, not missing a beat. Jeff leaned back, stunned, and Roy laughed.

"That's my girl," he chuckled. Karen stiffened and turned her green of green eyes to him. DeSoto could have kicked himself for saying that outloud, especially in the awkward silence that followed. Just then, Sarah came up and pulled the men to the side, to talk to them about their show. Roy sent silent thank you's to the woman for her just in time save.

"Hey, what are we singing anyway," he asked, finally thinking of it.

Mikey grinned in a way that made Roy's heart drop to his shoes. "You remember that song 'Lollipop'?"

Roy groaned and felt like banging his head against something hard. "I wish I didn't sometimes." In high school, he'd been trying to convince Joanne to go out with him, but she wouldn't for one reason or another. So, out of sheer desperation, he'd gotten his barbershop buddies together, rehearsed the famouse Chordettes song tirelessly, and then during lunch went up to the table where Joanne and her friends were sitting and sang it. In front of half the school population. At the time, he hadn't cared about the embaressment, but once the song was over, he'd about wanted to burst from spontaneous combustion, and Joanne looked like she wanted to strangle him.

She still said no.

But later that week, something must have happened to changer her mind, and she said she would go out on a date with him, but not to expect much from it. Ever since, they were always together, and every now and again, he would give her a lollipop and she'd glare at him.

Jeff shoved a handfull of suckers under his nose. "Put these in your pocket, when we're done we're gonna pull out one and hold it out to the kid closest to us."

"Is it going to be exactly like that time in high school?"

"Obviously not, we're in these horrible instruments of torture," commented Mikey while pulling at his jacket sleeve.

"Complaints complaints. Okay, Roy, your lead. Ready?" They all nodded and went to stand in the middle of the room. Sarah had already explained what was going on, and that there would be a treat at the end for the kids and parents.

Roy gave the count, and in a steady tenor began, "Lollipop, lollipop, oh lolli lolli lollli lollipop..."

Mikey joined in with his higher tones, then Jeff with his lower octaves, then Derek with his baritone. It was a bit of a thrill to see the kids and parents react to little Derek singing in such a deep and low voice, and when he did the 'pop', he got close to a kid, making the child squirm and giggle.

Karen leaned against a wall and watched with intrest and amusement as the little quartet sang. She'd had no idea Roy was a singer, and a good one at that. He obviously enjoyed it, although she had a feeling he didn't do it often. Karen couldn't help the soft, tender smile that crossed her lips without her knowing when Roy made some funny movement and then smile when a child laughed. On the end word, each man pulled out a lollipop, holding it out to a child close to them. The room errupted into applause and laughs and giggles. They took their bows as they passed candy around, Roy said something to his friends, thanked Sarah, and walked to the door. Karen joined him there.

"You're quite good," she said. He jumped a bit, as if startled out of a thought and she frowned in confusion and concern.

"Thanks," he grinned, and held out a sucker to her. With a giggle she took it, twirling the stick between two fingers. They walked out together and said nothing, that quiet that was so comfortable for them filled with discomfort.

"Karen, if I said something that was...out of line earlier, I'm sorry," Roy finally said, looking at her. She considered it as she tapped the hard candy to her chin.

"I didn't take any offense to it Roy, really. It was just something unexpected, that's all." Relief flitted over his face.

"Thanks." He shifted his feet a bit, looking at them, before looking back up at her. "Would you like to come to a fireman's cookout with me and my family next weekend? Well, it's not really a cookout, more of a dinner get together type of thing. If you don't want to, you know, it being awkward or something for you, that's fine, I just-"

"Casual or dressy," she interrupted, grinning at the dumbfounded look on his face.

"Casual. You don't need to bring anything. I can, pick you up, if you like, or give you directions."

"Directions are fine." Roy stared at her in such a scrutinizing way that she shifted with embaressment. "What?"

"I thought your hair was red," he said. Self-coinciously, Karen reached up and touched her fingers to her scalp.

"It's blonde, but the sun makes it more red." Roy reached out to the barett clasping her hair neatly to the nape of her neck and brought a few strands forward.

"Huh," he said. Karen blushed fiercly and at that moment, the radio in Roy's hand crackled to life.

"Squad 51, what is your status?"

Roy dropped her hair gently, and found he couldn't meet her eyes, which were as dark as emeralds at the moment. "Squad 51 available." Without another glance at Karen, he walked to the elevator while listening to the dispatcher on the other end.

Karen stared after him a moment. Then, with a shaky breath, closed her eyes, opened them, and went back into the room.

Roy got to the nurses desk downstaris around the same time Johnny did. He had both hands in his pockets, and looked...Roy couldn't quite place it.

"Got a call, you ready?"

Johnny merely nodded. In his pocket, his hand gripped minutely around the bottle there.

**Black-Angel-001: okay so there's more fluff and romance than johnny agnst, but wasn't that a nice break? ..... thinking it over, it might not be since everyone is eager to see what johnny's gonna do....next chapter, i swear! and 'lollipop' probably wouldn't be considered a barbershop quartet song, but four men sing it in the dell commercials with no music so nyah nyah.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Saving Me**

**Black-Angel-001: there is some confusion among you and i want to clear it up. details will be provided later as to johnny's reactions and such, but let me just say, for the record, that johnny is addicted. if that was a spoiler in anyway, i'm sorry, but i had to clear that up.**

**Saving Me**

_"And say it for me, say it to me, and I'll leave this life behind me, say it if it's worth saving me."_ --Nickleback, _'Savin' Me'_

After three more runs, two of which ended up in the patients signing forms saying they were going to see their own doctor, Roy wearily pulled into the firehouse, put it in park, and sat for a minute. Johnny was quiet, had been for most of the afternoon after their first stop at Rampart. He hardly said a word, didn't engage in a conversation, and the joking he did with Roy was weak and without much effort. With a sigh, Johnny opened his door and got out, walking around the squad to stand in front of cap's open office door. Roy got out too, and stood next to him for a minute. Finally, after a supportive squeeze of Johnny's shoulder, Roy left him alone.

Gage cleared his throat and knocked gently on the door. Stanley ignored him to finish writing out whatever report he had. As soon as the period was tapped on the end of the sentance, he looked up, studied John, and waved him in. Like before, Johnny closed the door without being told, but didn't sit down. Instead, he stood at-ease, hands clasped loosely behind his back, feet spread two inches apart, and eyes straight ahead.

Hank looked John up and down, looking at his stance and posture, his expression. His body language was respectful and percise, his face composed to be blank. The look was unnatural for John, Hank thought. After five minutes went by and Stanley hadn't said anything, Johnny's brown eyes flicked to his captain, confused and unsure. Hank just waited him out.

"Sir, I'd...like to...I want to apologize for my behavior earlier," Johnny finally stuttered out. His eyes darted back and forth between Hank and the wall again.

Stanley kept watching him, saying nothing, just leaning backwards and forwards in his chair. Finally, after what seemed like forever to the young paramedic, he spoke.

"Apology accepted. I understand that you were thinking I was discussing something personal and private with someone who wasn't involved."

Johnny shook his head, looking straight at Hank this time. "No, you were right. I should have realized that you would talk to Roy, but instead I let my frustration with my car come over into my job and it wasn't proffessional."

"We all have moments of unproffessionalism, Gage. The important thing is in wether or not you own up to it, make amends, move on, and try not to let it happen again. So, since you have apologized and realized that it was wrong of you, I'm willing to overlook the more serious implications."

Johnny's heart fell a little. So, he was still going to be punished for it. That was only fair, he reminded himself. Stanley continued.

"You're going to be working with the recruits and boots this week during your off time. You're going to go through proper procedure for entering a building, evacuating victims, rendering first aide to those victims, and whatever else the instructors will have you do. That's for being late and your actions earlier." Hank waited a few minutes, so it would sink in for the young man. Slowly, Johnny nodded.

"Yes, sir. Thank you." He went back to staring at the wall.

"John," Hank said. The use of his first name made Johnny look back. "If you want, I could come over later and help you take a look at your car?"

Johnny grinned, loosening up from his tense position. Hank was reaching out to show there were no real hard feelings in their friendship, and Johnny appreciated it, and said as much. "Yeah, I'd like that."

They chatted about times and dates and Johnny left the office feeling kind of good. He knew working with the newbs was Stanley's subtle way of telling Gage that he was going to re-learn his discipline, and in a way it made him feel ashamed all over again. It was like reprimanding an older child when they used bad table manners by going over it all again in great detail for someone younger in their presence, making the older one help teach so it wasn't as obvious. Well, it could have been worse and Johnny consoled himself with that thought. He stuck his hands in his pocket and stuttered in his steps when his fingers wrapped around the bottle there. Walking quickly to the latrine, he went into a bathroom stall, locked the door, and pulled out the bottle.

The lable read Lorcet, the miligrams, the quantity, and nothing else. He tilted the bottle, and the 16 pills fell to the side accordingly. He was not proud of how he'd gotten the pills. He'd thought that during a run, he would work it to get hurt, he would be prescribed painkillers, and if he got out of whatever punishment Stanley had for him for a little longer, that was fine. But, at the run with the shot woman, there was no chance of that. Looking at Roy pull drugs out the box had made pain lace through his body, making him tight as a drum, and he found that at the hospital he could hardly concentrate. So, he'd made up some excuse about a friend and going to see him when in reality he went to the pharmacy. In was his great luck (or so he'd thought at the time) that a young, friendly and eager woman had been at the counter working as a pharmacy technician.

He'd charmed her and cajouled her until she unlocked that counter, closed the blinds, and then he screwed her against the wall. It was short, quick, and she was happy at the end. So was Johnny when he randomly grabbed a bottle while she had her back to him. And if he also grabbed a spare key hanging nearby when he kissed her before he left, who was the wiser? Looking back on it made him feel slightly sick. But, the 'what the hell?!' that went through his head was slowly fading into oblivion the more he tilted the bottle and the more the pills rattled. Pain shot through him again, and he had to clamp his mouth shut tight to keep a cry from escaping, although the barest of whimpers made it through. He held his breath, waiting for someone to come see what was wrong. Nothing. As another tremor went through him, Johnny quickly twisted the cap open, dumped two into his hand, and swallowed them. He leaned back as far as he was able and waited, eyes closed.

It worked quicker than the Tylenol 3, his mind fuzzing over. Slowly, how he got the bottle of pills faded from his mind, his emotions over what happened with Stanley, Roy, and everything else followed. He got to his feet, swaying a little, fumbled with the lock, and stumbled out of the stall. Each step brought a little clarity but didn't get rid of the fuzz. Soon, his gait was steadier, and he stumbled less. If anyone asked, he would just put it on exhaustion and hunger. Nobody would think twice about it, it being evening and the near end of a long day.

When he walked into the dayroom, he said something to Chet, told Mike how hungry he was and that he hoped they were having something good for dinner. Food was passed around and even while he kept up a banter with Kelly, Johnny's mind slipped a little farther away and nobody seemed to notice.

**Black-Angel-001: i have to cut it off there, i do.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Saving Me**

**Black-Angel-001: i know it's been a good minute since i've updated, but it's not something to be discussed here. lets just say that there have been problems and leave it at that. in the mean time, here are some chapter updates!**

**Saving Me**

"_Heaven's gates won't open up for me, with these broken wings I'm fallin', all I see is you_." --Nickleback, _'Savin' Me'_

The crew was sound asleep in their warm bunks when the klaxons went off. Every man jumped awake with a start and sat up, listening to the call. With a sigh, Roy rubbed his eyes and leaned back in his bed. Just for the engine, he sighed, running his palm over his face. He looked over to Johnny and had to look again. His partner was in the same position he'd fallen asleep in, and was still dead to the world. Everything about that cried out as wrong to Roy. Johnny tended to toss and turn, and he was usually the first one awake when the klaxons sounded. Tossing the blankets off himself, Roy got up and went around to the left side of Johnny's bed.

Gage's face was kind of pale, his breathing a little irregular. With a frown, Roy put a hand against his forehead. A little warm, but not really feverish. Johnny murmmured something and frowned, shifting. Roy watched him for a minute. The frown smoothed out and Johnny relaxed again. Roy put his hand against Johnny's forehead one more time, didn't feel anything different and after watching him a few more minutes went back into his own bed.

The engine crew came back an hour later, tired, sore and a little dirty. Roy roused enough to listen to them clean up and crawl into bed, and relaxed when he heard four sets of light snores. He turned his head to Johnny. The man had shifted to lay on his other side, but little else. He was still sound asleep. Roy was still thinking about it when he fell asleep again.

The next morning, Johnny woke with a groan, blinking against the sunlight. His head hurt, his mouth was dry, and his limbs felt like jelly. Absently, he made a mental note that taking so much was a bad idea at work and decided that one should do it. He stood and stretched, wincing. Taking a good look around the room, he realized that he was the only one still there. Slightly panicked, his eyes shot towards the clock. Five thirty in the morning. That made him relax a bit. No one minded if you slept in a little, as long as it wasn't past six in the morning. He frowned walking to the latrine and locker room. He couldn't really figure on why they'd let him sleep in, and a few minutes of absolutely nothing in the way of answers, he decided to leave it alone.

Once he was changed into his uniform, he pulled the bottle of pills out of his locker and spilled one out into his palm. Without a second thought he swallowed it. He stood in front of his locker for a few minutes, waiting for the pill to kick in. When it did, it wasn't with the same as last night. His head was a little fuzzy, but he could string two thoughts together and know (sort of) what he was talking about. His headache was starting to go away, and now that he was moving a bit more, he wasn't so weak in the legs, but his mouth was still horribly dry. Dressed and ready to go, pills tucked safely in his pocket, Johnny went out of the locker room to the break room. Rounds of morning went through as his shiftmates looked up from their cofffee. Roy was standing over the stove, mixing something together in a bowl, while Johnny poured himself a glass of milk and drained it without pause. He poured himself another and drank that, a little more slowly. Satisfied, he poured a cup of coffee.

"Johnny, sleep okay," asked Roy as he studied what was in front of him carefully, trying to sound like there wasn't a question in the question he'd asked.

Gage heard the underlying question. "I'm fine, pally." He grinned to put a little more emphasise on it. Roy frowned like he wasn't completely sure, but he didn't press him. There would be time later, in private.

The day was slow with fire and first aid demonstrations, and fire safety inspections, but it was also busy because of them too. Roy found no opportunity to question Johnny about wether or not he'd been sick last night. Before he knew it, they were changing for end of shift and their weekend and even then he couldn't talk to his partner; he was too busy egging Chet on. Roy had a suspicion Johnny was deliberatly avoiding talking to him, and in the end wondered if there really wasn't anything to be worried about. He looked at Johnny, laughing at a face Chet made, and wondered when he'd become so pale, had gotten bags under his eyes, and developed a twitchy kind of movement. His hands were continually moving, just subtly. Something in the back of Roy's head sent warning bells through his body, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what exactly it was that bothered him about the whole thing. He waved to the guys and headed to his car and then for home.

Johnny flopped himself on to his couch and threw an arm over his eyes, one leg propped up on the arm of the sofa and the other hanging off the side. That had been the most exhausting shift, and he wasn't entirely sure why. He moved his arm so it was resting on the top of his head. He'd worked hard to make sure nobody expected anything, to act like himself even though the edges of his mind were graying. Without really thinking about it, or realizing what he was doing, Johnny took out the bottle and put two pills in his mouth. Swallowing, he frowned at the bottle. He'd taken two last night, one in the morning, one late in the morning, one mid afternoon, one late afternoon, and then another an hour before shift was over. Out of 16, he had...he tried to think of the math, but the pills were working and making it hard to think. Johnny counted the pills left and came out with eight. He set the bottle on the coffee table next to him and watched his ceiling swirl and spin and move. Everything he'd been trying to forget came back to the surface for a minute: Campbell nearly killing Roy, Campbell nearly killing him, the pain of loosing patients, the pain of Roy not telling him about the fireman, how he'd hated that nobody seemed to know how to make it all better, that nobody seemed to notice how he was hurting. But then the minute passed and he was forgetting again.

"Okay, Karen, tell me everything," Jocelyn Michales said eagerly, leaning out the small window. Karen was standing outside the window where specimens were dropped off to the lab, Jocelyn was inside and going through a slow moment.

"Tell you everything about what," replied Karen, suddenly finding lint to brush off her white top. Jocelyn rolled her brown eyes.

"The cookout," the dark woman said in exasperation. "With your fireman."

"He's not my anything. And the cookout went fine."

"Sweetheart, if you keep hiding your head in the sand like you are then you're gonna get yourself run over without realzing it." Karen looked up at her.

"I mean it, he's not mine. He's still in love with his wife, still wears his wedding ring, for goodness sake! He is not mine."

Jocelyn stared at her, lips pursed, then shook her head. "I don't understand you. He's obviously interested in you, attracted to you, and you're definetly attracted to him. You're both adults, why don't you keep each other entertained?"

Karen made a face, like she'd tasted something sour. "It would feel too much like an affair, like I'm the other woman. It feels like that now, sometimes."

"You're hopless, you know that sweetheart," Jocelyn said with some sympathy. Karen flushed and feigned ignorance again. The lab technician sighed and shook her head. "So you don't want to sleep with him, okay." The blush on Karen intensified. "Why not just be friends with him? That's perfectly alright, you know, for a widower to have female friends."

Karen bit her bottom lip and looked a little worried. "I'm not sure..."

"Honey, believe me, it'll do you both some good." Inside the lab, someone called for Jocelyn. The woman looked over her shoulder. "I gotta go. You think about it, alright?" She didn't wait for Karen's answer before she disappeared.

Karen leaned her shoulder against the wall near the window and thought about what Jocelyn had said. The woman was what her father would call a straight shooter, telling people what was what even if they didn't really want to hear it. Sometimes her honesty borderlined on rudeness, but there was bits of wisdom in what she said. Karen thought about that as she replayed the conversation in her head. Roy was still devoted to his dead wife, not fanatically, but it was still there. She didn't want to compete with that. Could she be friends with him? Well, they were sort of friends already, weren't they? Sure. Karen nodded to herself and pushed away from the wall, going to the elevator. She still had a few more hours to go, why not go by his house and say hi, thank him properly for inviting her to the cookout and being nice to her?

Johnny cautiously looked around the hallway before he stepped out of Rampart's pharmacy. Everyone was out for lunch, so it had been easy to get in, especially since he had a key. He kept a hand in his coat pocket until he was out of the hospital and in his truck. Leaning back against the headrest, Johnny closed his eyes for a minute then opened them. Then he laughed a little. It was so easy, he thought. So simple to slip in and out with no one the wiser. He pulled out the bottles from his pocket. A bottle of Percodan, two bottles of Dilaudid, and one of Actiq. Out of all of them, the Actiq was probably the worst, because of the fentanyl, which could be more potent than oxycodone or hydromorphone. He knew from runs that Dilaudid could be cut with a hallucinagenic, but Johnny was leary of that. He just wanted to escape, not see things. Smiling with satisfaction, Johnny put them back in his pocket, started the car, and drove back to his apartment.


	8. Chapter 8

**Saving Me**

"_These city walls ain't got no love for me, I'm on the ledge of the 18th story, and oh I scream for you_." --Nickleback, _'Savin' Me'_

Roy ran a hand over the piece of wood in front of him, testing the smoothness. When he found a rough area, he sanded it and ran his hand over it again. Satisfied, he put the leg of what would soon be a coffee table down to the side, then went to what would be the top. Outside of his workshop, he heard Billy barking wildly, like he did only when there was a visitor. Roy paused a second before putting the wood down and taking off his goggles. In the backyard, Billy was running along the fence line, tail wagging and tounge lolling out, barking. Roy closed the workshop door and headed for the fence gate, brushing sawdust off himself as he went. Billy bounded up to him and jumped up and down, as if he was telling Roy that someone was there and he really really wanted to meet them. Billy didn't try to go out the fence with Roy, his training wouldn't allow it, but he did sit on his haunches, tailing thumping the grass and whine.

Roy walked around a little cluster of trees to the front yard and stopped with some surprise at who was standing on his front porch. Karen was looking nervously between the door and a window, and raised a hand again to knock. Roy went up to the low porch and braced his forearms on the rail.

"Hey," he said in greeting. Karen jumped a little and turmed toward him. He hair was down and loose, waving a little as it fell over her shoulders and down her back, and she wasn't wearing her white uniform, instead going for more relaxed jeans and a sweater. She smiled slightly and with some embaressment.

"Hey. I wasn't sure if you were home. I mean, your car is here, but no one was answering and I thought maybe you were out and..." she stopped and chuckled. "And I'm babbling, great." Roy got the feeling that she was talking more to herself than him on that one.

"How'd you find out where I live," he asked, still leaning against the rail. Karen stepped closer.

"Dixie told me. I hope that's okay. It must seem weird for me to suddenly show up like this, when we hardly know each other, huh?"

Roy grinned. She was babbling again. "I don't mind. And if I remember correctly, you were the one who said that you know me well enough, after taking my blood so many times." Something about the way she blushed made his grin spread farther.

"That was probably one of the stupidest things I've ever said," she moaned, putting a hand to her forehead. "I don't want to imply tha-" For the first time, she really looked at him and narrowed her eyes suspiciously as she got even closer to him. "Are you laughing at me, Roy DeSoto?"

"Never," replied Roy. The grin wouldn't leave though, so it underminded his words.

"You are." She sounded so indignant that Roy would have actually stopped grinning, but the way her nose wrinkled made the grin a smile. Really, it was kind of adorable. With a smile of her own, she reached out and smacked his arm, which caused particles of sawdust to fly into the air. Karen raised an eyebrow. "What in the world have you been doing, cutting down trees?"

"Cutting wood pieces for a coffee table, actually. Do you want to come in? We'll have to go around the back so I don' track dust through the house, though. And that means you'll have to brave my dog." He tilted his head a little to the side. "You don't have a problem with dogs, do you?"

Karen shook her head. "No, I love dogs. What breed is he," she asked converstionally as she came down the porch steps to meet Roy.

"We're not entirely sure. He's a mutt, I know that much, but a very lovably mutt."

Roy lead her to the fence gate, where Billy went crazy with barking, tailwagging, and jumping at the sight of Karen. Roy told him to go sit, so Billy did, whining and inching around in his spot. When the gate was safely closed behind, them, Roy introduced Karen and Billy. Karen told Billy that he was a handsome and good dog, and Billy let Karen know he really appreciated having his belly scratched by licking her face and acting like a puppy. Roy thought it would be a good friendship.

He let Karen in the backdoor, but stood outside to brush himself off further before he went inside too. Karen looked around the kitchen with interest, and caught a peek of the living room through the kitchen doorway.

"Can I get you something to drink, tea, soda, water?"

Karen accepted some tea and for the next ten minutes, they sat in silence that wasn't very comfortable. Karen asked him a question, and before long they were caught in a conversation ranging from their jobs to when they were in high school. Roy found out that Karen had four older brothers and two younger ones, and a younger sister, she coached a girl's soaftball team, and liked playing guitar. Karen found out that Roy had an older brother that he hadn't seen in years, his father had been a carpenter, and he was catcher for the fireman's baseball team. They were so caught up in their talking that when the front door lock turned they jumped with some surprise.

"Dad! We're home," called Chris as he came in. They heard him drop his bag on the sofa, and then Jenny do the same. They both went into the kitchen, Chris still talking.

"You won't believe what happened today, it was pretty cool. We had a fire and-" He stopped when he saw Karen and he looked quickly at his dad before looking back at her. "Hi."

Roy knew he should say something to the kids about Karen, but all he heard was the word 'fire' and he was up and out of his chair, worridly standing in front of his son, looking him over with a paramedics eye.

"You had a fire at your school? Are you okay? What happened?"

Chris looked away from Karen and at his dad. "I heard the captain tell a teacher it was a small kitchen fire. I was in class on the other side of the building when it happened."

"And it was cool?" He wasn't as panicked, his heart was slowing a little bit more to it's regular pace, but his concern couldn't go away just yet.

"The fire wasn't, that sucked because now we can't go into the cafeteria, but some kids were really really scared and the firemen let us look at the engine, and the paramedics showed us their stuff too. That was the cool part."

Roy forced himself to chuckle. "But you've seen the engine and rig at the station before."

"Yeah, but it was cool because I got to see the engine and squad at a scene, lights and everything. Even got to see the firemen pull out the hoses and stuff."

"What station was it?"

"Engine 15, and squad 41," Chris said. "They all said hi, by the way." He glanced at Karen again.

Roy had to ask one more time, "Are you sure you're okay?" Chris nodded. "Okay, kids, you remember Miss St. James, from Rampart? She took my blood when I was in the hospital."

Jenny offered a shy smile while she hugged her father's leg. He knelt down and gave her a hug and kiss, then gave Chris a hug. Karen smiled.

"Hi, you two." Why did it feel like she'd just been caught sneaking a cookie out of the jar before dinner?

"Hi," Chris said again. "We've got lots of homework, so we better get to it."

Jenny frowned at her brother. "I don't have lots-"

He cut her by taking her shoulder and practically pulling her back towards their rooms. "Come on, Jen."

When the kids were down the hallway and in their rooms, Roy sat back down in his chair, closing his eyes and trying to calm himself down. Chris was okay, he wasn't near the fire, he's fine, he wasn't near the fire, he wasn't near the fire, Chris is okay. Roy repeated it to himself, letting the image of his son from a few seconds ago reappear behind his eyes. Chris was okay.

Karen watched Roy, knowing that he had to work out his protectiveness himself. She patiently waited him out, and when he opened his eyes and looked at her, they shared a smile.

"Well, that was...akward," she said with some airiness.

"I'm sorry, I forgot about the time." He normally didn't, but talking with Karen had made him forget more than the time. It made him forget about the stress of his job, the stress of being a single parent, the loss he felt for Joanne, and even Johnny's maybe problems. He felt better than he had in a while and all they'd discussed were the small stuff. They made some more small talk, mostly about how the kids were so much bigger than last time, before Karen stood to leave. Roy apologized for not being able to walk her to the door, she waved it off with a smile and a laugh, and then she was gone. Roy stared after her for a minute, smiling. He didn't notice Chris standing quitetly just outside the door, with an almost unreadalbe expression on his face.


	9. Chapter 9

**Saving Me**

**Black-Angel-001: here's the next chapter....with a lemon drop on top lol ;p**

**Saving Me**

_"And oh I scream for you; come please I'm callin'. And all I need is you; hurry, I'm falling."_ --Nickleback, _'Savin' Me'_

Johnny woke with an ache all over his body from sleeping in one position without moving for way too long. His head was pounding and he felt like there was sandpaper in his mouth; he couldn't seem to recall what day it was. He forced his head to turn in the direction of his armchair, to the clock sitting near it, but he couldn't read the numbers, they were too blurry. He blinked rapidly and then squinted, trying again. Three hours until he had to go to work. Johnny tried to sit up, but was barely more than half way up when he fell with a flop back to the couch. Okay...plan B. He tried to roll over and only managed to land facedown on his carpet. For some reason, this struck Johnny as hilarious so he laughed. Anyone who chose to walk in at that moment would have seen a very disheveled John Gage laying with his face in the carpet in only his t-shirt and boxers, laughing like a maniac. They would have thought he'd lost his marbles. All of them. Finally, the laughter stopped and Johnny lifted his head so his chin was resting on the carpet.

Then, he got on his hands and knees and crawled over to where his phone was, not realizing that it was a very pathetic sight that he made. When he pulled himself into his chair, he picked up his phone and stared blankly at the buttons on there. Finally he punched in a well known number. After a few rings, there was a well known voice on the other end.

"Hello, DeSoto residence?"

"Hey, Roy," Johnny said, letting his head fall against the back of his chair.

"Johnny? You okay, you don't sound too good."

"Yeah, don't feel too good either. Listen, you mind calling Stanley for me? I can hardly keep my eyes open." It was true, his eyes were closed now.

"Sure, of course. Hey, do you want me to come by and check on you, or get you some medication or something?"

At the mention of medication, Johnny opened his eyes and looked at the bottles nearby and couldn't help but chuckle. "I think I'm good on that."

Roy made assurances that he would call Hank and to call if Johnny needed anything. Johnny assured Roy he would, and thanked him before hanging up and allowing himself to go limp in his chair.

Roy and his fellow shiftmates were waiting for the engine and squad to come back from a run so he talked to his temporary partner Gary Michaels. Gary was one of the first firemen to go through the paramedic program and was no nonsense about his job. He wasn't a hard nose though, and when the mood struck him he played practical jokes to rival Chet Kelly's. Almost as soon as the squad pulled into the station, the klaxons went off and Roy and Gary were jumping up and going to the squad.

"Station 51, man down, unknown type injury. 689 Ramsland Drive...689 Ramsland Drive. Time out, 0816."

Through the entire ride, Roy couldn't help but glance to the left of him and wonder if Johnnyh was okay, and if he should see him after work. A cold feeling settled in his gut, a feeling he always paid attention to although he never knew what it meant, exactly. Then they were pulling up to the scene and Roy focused on the job at hand.

Sitting on the steps in front of the house was a man who had his arms dangling between his knees and his chin against his chest. He was in a beat up Army uniform with the rank still sewn on the arms. On the lawn was another man, who lay still. His eyes were open and moving, his lips were a thin line. The material of his right pants leg had a large blood stain on it. Even when Roy and Gar got out of the squad and pulled out their gear, neither man moved. The cold feeling in Roy settled deeper.

"Watch yourself, we don't know if the guy who shot the victim is still around and the cops are about five minutes away," warned Roy as his eyes flicked back and forth between the two men.

While it would've been better to wait for the police, Roy didn't like the amount of blood he was seeing on the victim, nor did he like the color of his skin. Warily, the two medics went to the man on the ground, Roy in front. Suddenly, the man on the steps stood, and raised his right arm. Neither the medics or the victim moved when they saw the gun.

"Hey," Roy said as soothingly as possible, "why don't you put that down?"

"He," a cautious voice below him said quietly. "He thinks he's in Vietnam."

Roy hardly spared him a glance. Instead, he slowly put the biophone and drug box down, earning a soft click as the hammer was pulled back. Standing straight up again, Roy drew himself to his full height, shoulders back and head high. The stance and expression was one of a man used to being in charge and people following his orders. The soilder in front of Roy recognized it and the gun dropped a bit, his expression confused. Roy pounced on it.

"Corporal," he said in a low voice, but full of command. "What the hell do you think you're doing, waving that around? It's not firing practice yet! You've got to take your combat readiness physical now!"

The gun wavered a bit more but didn't drop. The confusion became more pronounced. "Combat readiness....sir, I've recieved no such orders." The gun was back up and Gary shifted nervously behind Roy.

"You're getting them now," Roy said tersley. "Are you going to refuse to follow the instructions of a Master Sergeant? Fine, what's your name, serial number, and CO's name? I'll put this on report and have you in a court martial so fast-"

The confusion turned to fear. The gun lowered and the corproral snapped to attention. "No sir! My apologies, Master Sergeant!"

Roy held off on the sigh of relief when the gun finally stopped pointing at them. Gary, however, went ahead with the sigh. When the corporal began to move forward, a bit of hope flared in Roy's chest. If the soilder got clost enough, then he and Gary could overpower him and get him down by the time the cops got there. The newfound hope died though when sirens filled the air and the corporal began to panic.

"We're being attacked! We have to get into defensive positions!" Even as he said it, the corporal only stood still, gun raised and head moving wildly around.

"No, we're not being attacked." The sirens grew closer. "Corporal, put that gun down now and get over here! Double time!"

Of all the things Roy could have said, that did not seem to be the right thing.

Instead of doing as told, the distraught and panicky soilder only shifted his aim on Roy. Police cars were pulling up now, and cops were jumping out and rushing forward, aggitating the man further. "No! You're one of them, an enemy!"

"Corporal, I am not a charlie, I am a Master Sergeant in the United States Army, and I'm telling you to put that gun down and get over here!"

The police were yelling now, telling the man to drop his weapon. Roy just kept his mouth shut, seeing that he was doing no good after his own 'drop the gun' stint. Between the sirens, lights, shouting and the confusion of present time and past mixing, the corporal was starting to hyperventilate and have a nervous breakdown. Finally he just screamed and squeezed the trigger.

Pain sliced through Roy's arm, shoulder, neck and upperback as the bullet slammed into him. The force of the impact and the surprise of it made him fall back and onto the grass. Around him, the noise of activity was still muffled by the sound of the gun firing.

As he lay there, he blinked up at the sky for a minute, then turned his head to look at his shoulder. The blue fabric was beginning to take on a darker hue, and Roy knew he wasn't thinking straight when his first thought was, '_That's_ _gonna be a bitch to get_ _out_', his second thought was, '_That_ _really kind of_ _hurts._' His third thought was, '_Did_ _I just get_ _shot?_'

He watched the stain spread farther before the sound of a panicked voice calling his name finally registered.

'_Oh, yeah. Gotta tell Johnny I'm okay, can't let him freak out too bad,_' he thought.

For a split second, he wondered why Gary was there and not Johnny. '_Right,_ _he's sick. No, no, wait, it was something else._'

"Come on DeSoto, answer me," ordered Gary as he pressed more gauze against the wound. DeSoto flinched at the new pain that caused, but otherwise just continued to blink at him in a confused manner. Gary had already called a Code I and requested a second squad and ambulance. He looked over to the cop who was pressing gauze on the leg of the first victim, who was sitting up and talking more. Apparently, he'd been playing dead.

"That," hissed DeSoto, "really hurts." Gary looked down at him and quirked a grin.

"Yeah, it tends to when you get shot in the shoulder." With one hand still pressing on Roy's left shoulder, Gary used the other to pic up the biophone's reciever, which some nice cop had set up for him, and contacted Rompart. Once he updated them on the situation and got his orders, he was putting IVs in both patients, getting another cop to hold down on Roy's still bleeding wound. Then the squad and ambulances arrived, and by then Roy was more aware, trying to assure anyone whould listen that he was fine.

Nobody would listen.

At some point, he just gave that up and started thinking about the kids, who would get them from school and more importantly, how'd they react to this. He winced at the thought. Then he thought about Karen, how close he felt to her, and her reaction. He winced again. Then Roy thought about Johnny, and how he was glad he wasn't there. That thought boiled down to the thought that with his complexion and dark hair, the corporal could very well have turned that gun on his friend, and hot him somehwere other than the shoulder, thinking Gage was a VietCong silder. Images wnet into his head about how that could have been and Roy shivered, gritting his teeth against the pain. Gary noticed that, put another blanket around him, and said they would be at Rampart soon.

Roy sighed and closed his eyes. They flew open again in seconds as a revelation hit him like lightning.

He had a pretty good idea what was wrong with Johnnhy, and he prayed hard that he was wrong.

**Black-Angel-001: okay, i could leave you there for now but since i have another chapter ready and up, why don't we just go there and see what happens huh?**


	10. Chapter 10

**Saving Me**

**Black-Angel-001: here's some quirky stuff...not quite sure where this came from....O.o**

**Saving Me**

"_Life's a game but it ain't fair, I break the rules so I don't care, so I keep doing my own thing, walkin' tall against the rain. Victory's within the mile, almost there don't give up now, only thing that's on my mind is who's gonna run this town tonight?_" --Jay Z feat. Rhianna, _'Run this Town'_

When Roy got into Rampart he was almost uncoinsious from the medication and pain. He vaugly heard Morton asking him something, then asking Gary something. He slited his eyes open and watched the lights pass over head until there was just the one in a treatment room. There were words like 'surgery' and 'contact the station' that he caught, but he wasn't sure he wanted to focus so much on things. The pain was fading again, and it made him tired. So, he went ahead and went to sleep.

Gary picked up the phone at the nurses station, dialed the number for the station, and waited out the ringing. He still wasn't sure exactly what he was going to say when they answered, but he knew it wouldn't go over too well. Paramedics getting hurt on the job wasn't unusual, but paramedics getting shot on the job was. Then the other end picked up and Gary just went with it.

"Station 51, this is Fireman Mike St-"

"DeSoto was shot," Gary interrupted without preamble.

There was total silence until Stoker shouted, "He WHAT?!" into the phone. Over the questions Mike was asking him rapid fire, Gary could hear the other guys asking what was going on, what was wrong.

When the noise died down, Mike asked, much calmer, "What happened?" Maybe a little too calmly.

Gary sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "The short version? Guy who shot our initial victim pointed the gun at Roy, Roy tried to talk him down, cops showed up and put the guy into a panic, then the guy shot Roy in the shoulder."

"How is Roy now?" Still very calm, Gary thought.

"He's up in surgery to get the bullet out of his shoulder, and he's gonna stay overnight, maybe until the day after tomorrow." Mike cursed softly and the paramedic figured the engineer wasn't as calm as he thought. "Stoker, I'll call you when he's out of surgery, okay?"

Silence came over the line again. "Okay." Without saying goodbye, Mike hung up the phone. Gary sighed again and hung up too.

Roy was dreaming, he knew he was. The alternative was something that he couldn't deal with. Floating nearly two feet off the ground in front of him was his old partner from Vietnam, Sergeant Major Alan Coleman. He looked just like Roy remembered, the same blonde hair, the same brown eyes, and the same lazy grin. He crossed his arms over his chest easily as he stared down at Roy.

"_Well you're up shit creek, aren't ya DeSoto,_" he said with the New York accent he had been so famous for.

"What?"

Alan's grin got wider and Roy thought of the nickname the company had given him, the 'Cheshire Cat' or C.C. It fit him.

"_What do you mean what? You got shot, remember?_" He didn't wait for an answer but continued. "_Of course, it's not life threatening or anything, just a little hole._"

"A little-? Is that why you're here, to give me hell over getting shot?"

"_Me? I'm not really here, I'm just a figment of your imagination._" Alan spread his arms wide and spun in a small circle. "_I'm what your subconsiounce came up with to help you deal with your partner._"

Roy thought about that. "Okay. Why you and not Joanne?"

"_Are you kidding? She could hardly handle YOUR problems when you got back from the war. Me, I can help you out much better. Besides, you don't want to face Joanne even if she's just a figment of your subconsiounce because of Karen, right?_"

"I wouldn't know," Roy said dryly, "aren't you supposed to know that, being part of my subconsiounce and all." It was so easy to banter with Alan again.

"_I'm just here to deal with your new partner and what you're gonna do about it._"

"So? What do you have to say about that?"

Alan opened his mouth to say something, then paused and tilted his head, as if listening to something. Then he grinned again and faded away. Roy shouted for him to come back, but the darkness lifted to gray and then he was opening his eyes blearily. A nurse standing over him was the first thing he saw and she smiled at him. The gray came over him again and then he was alseep.

Johnny woke up near five in the afternoon, bleary and fuzzy. He was supposed to be at work, but why? Oh, right, he'd called in. Okay. He blinked against the fading light in his apartment and twisted his neck in an attempt to get the crink out of it. His entire body hurt, like he'd fought a four alarm fire all night and then a brush fire. Next to him, his answering machine beeped. Johnny forced his hand to move to play it. After his message played, Chet's voice came and filled the room.

"Hey, Johnny, this is Kelly. Listen, I know you're sick, but I thought you should know that uh...Roy got shot today, on a run. He's okay, came out of surgery just fine and everything. He's gonna be out day after tomorrow, you know, for observation and stuff. Anyway, I just thought you'd like to know. So...alright, I'll see you later." The beep ended the message.

Johnny frowned as he tried to process that. Roy was shot? On a run, he got shot? Well, where the hell was his partner to watch his back?! Johnny went on in that tangent for a full ten minutes before he realized exactly where the hell Roy's partner was. At home, drugged up. When he realized that, he put his aching head in his hands and took a deep breath. What the hell was he going to do now?

**Black-Angel-001: okay, that did not go exactly like i thought it would....**


	11. Chapter 11

**Saving Me**

**Black-Angel-001: think of the last chapter as a filler with some teasers....**

**Saving Me**

"_We're halfway there, woah, livin' on a prayer. Take my hand and we'll make it I swear, woah, livin' on a prayer_." --Bon Jovi, _'Livin' on a Prayer'_

Roy was discharged two days after he arrived at Rampart with a stern lecture from Dixie, Brackett, Early, and even Morton that cops were paid to take care of guys waving guns. Carefully and with incredible slowness he put the clothes Stacey had brought for him on, glad it was a button down shirt and not a polo. When he was dressed he put on his sling and hissed in relief and pain at the movement and relief. He slipped into his shoes and stood, catching his breath at the lighthead feeling it brought. Finally ready, he went to sign his release papers.

As he was signing, Roy heard a familiar voice call his name. He'd barely had time to turn before a warm body was hugging him tight. He stared at the head of Karen with some surprise. He brought his right arm to hug her but before he could she was pushing away from him and glaring up at him. Roy took a small step back. Was she teary eyed?

"You aren't supposed to get shot," she told him with a poke of her finger at his chest. "You are supposed to go to scenes when the guy with the gun isn't a threat, and take care of people at car wrecks and save them from burning buildings. You aren't allowed to get shot!"

She was still poking him in the chest with her finger, still staring up at him with eyes of pain and fear covered by anger, still talking. Roy took hold of her hand then leaned down and kissed her. She stilled and Roy thought for a minute that it was a mistake. Then she leaned forward a bit to apply more pressure on their lips. After a moment of just contact he pulled away. Slowly his eyes opened and he looked at her face. Her eyes opened and the expressive green searched his face.

"What was I talking about," she asked softly.

Roy smiled. "That you were coming over with me to my house for a few hours?"

The light blush on Karen's cheekbones grew darker and she frowned. "Roy, I really like you. I do. It's just...I don't feel...comfortable just yet..."

"I know and I'm sorry, I should have been clearer. Come over to talk like you did last time? I...enjoyed that."

The from became a smile and Karen nodded. "I'd like to."

"Great. And I really like you too, Karen." Now he was lightly blushing.

Even while the mood was light and friendly, both of them were thinking 'What in the world just happened?'

Roy couldn't drive with one arm and his car wasn't at the hospital besides, so Karen drove the two of them to his house. Stacey's car was parked in the driveway with the other cars and the kids were tossing a baseball back and forth in the front yard. As soon as Roy got out of the car, the ball dropped onto the grass and then both were wrapped around him as tight as they could without hurting him.

"Hey, I'm okay," he assured them putting one arm around both of them.

Chris leaned back and looked at his father seriously.

"No, I am. Just a little sore." Karen stepped up next to him and the kids looked at her quietly. Stacey stepped out on the porch.

"Roy, get in here already so you can sit down."

He introduced Karen and Stacey and cuddled with his kids on the couch, letting the warmth from their little bodies heat him up, in the heart too. The adults talked quietly and the kids stayed quiet for the most part. They kept glancing at Karen and at their father, questions in their eyes.

After about four hours, Karen stood to leave, politely refusing offers of staying for dinner, although she did agree to come back over tomorrow. At dinner, there was general small talk and Roy felt that something was slightly off with his family and he had an idea of what it was.

Roy sat down with Chris and Jenny after dinner and told them that if they wanted to talk about his friendship with Karen, it was okay to do that. He couldn't say what would come from it, if anything, and if anything did happen, they would definetely be the first to know.

He was on paid sick leave for almost a month and was on a limited activity order, but Roy wasn't thinking about work. He was thinking about something else entirely, and how he was going to handle it.

Three days after he was released from the hospital, he called Karen and asked her for a huge favor.

"Karen? Hi, It's Roy. Listen, I need a favor. Yeah. Would you mind driving me over to Johnny's place?"

**Black-Angel-001: i realize that you guys have been waiting for a lot of things in this story...johnny's end to drug addiction....roy and karen getting together...finding out who killed joanne...well, the next chapter doesn't have all of that, but it does have (ha! thought i'd tell you? right, try clicking the button! lol)**


	12. Chapter 12

**Saving Me**

**Black-Angel-001: this is where it gets really weird (not that it wasn't before but y'know) so pay attention.**

**Saving Me**

"_I've practiced this for hours gone round and round and now I think that I've got it all down. And as I say it louder I love how it sounds 'cause I'm not taking the easy way out. Not wrapping this in ribbons shouldn't have to give a reason why_." --Daughtry, _'No Surprise'_

Roy and Karen sat in Karen's car out in the parking lot of Johnny's apartment in silence. Roy was staring up at the building as if he could see into his friend's apartment and Karen was looking between the building and the man sitting next to her. Finally, Roy's deep sigh filled the air between them.

"I should go up," Roy said although he didn't move.

"Do you want me to go with you," asked Karen quietly.

Roy pondered that. If what he was thinking was fact, then it wouldn't be a very pretty sight. He didn't know what kind of mood Johnny would be in or if he would get violent and Roy didn't want Karen to get hurt. But if Johnny was in need of medical attention he would need help and Karen could provide that. He nodded to himself and turned in his seat to face her, his expression serious.

"If you want to come that's fine. But you have to stay behind me and near the door at all times in case Johnny gets...violent." Karen nodded. "Okay."

They got out in silence, they went up the stairs in silence, and Roy knocked on the door in silence. When there was no answer, Roy used his spare key to get in but stopped short when he was only a few feet in the apartment.

"Oh, God, Johnny," he said quietly.

The living room was a disaster area. Trash and clothes littered the floor and some of the furniture. Moving further in, Roy could see into the kitchen and there were dirty dishes stacked everywhere and a strong smell was coming from there. Behind him, he could hear Karen gasp and say something, but Roy was looking around and wondering when the hell things had gotten to the point where he and Johnny weren't on the same page.

A door slammed open down the hall, drawing their attention that way. Stumbling down the hall, Johnny paused at the end of it, hugging the corner tightly and swaying slightly. Johnny didn't seem to know they were there, was oblivious it seemed to everything. But he had this determined light in his eyes, dulled by something Roy knew and was familiar with, and made his way carefully and with marked and surprsing persision made his way to the coffee table. Roy looked that way and frowned. Pill bottles were scattered across the top, three of them empty. Before Johnny could get to them, Roy snatched them all up. Johnny paused, confused and blinked. Then he looked up, saw Roy and anger flashed across his face.

"What the fuck?! Give those back!" Johnny lunged forward but lost his footing and fell forward. Roy went to catch him, throwing the bottles behind him to Karen. Gage got back to his feet and struggled against Roy who let him stand up on his own. "Give em back, they're mine!" When he saw that Roy didn't have them and Karen did, he started towards her with a almost animal like growl.

Roy put his hands against Johnny's shoulders and braced his feet against the carpet to keep John from moving forward. Johnny struggled against the hold and Roy pushed him back forcefully. He heard Karen move back to put more distance between them. It just seemed to make Johnny more angry.

"Those are mine, DeSoto, give them the fuck back!"

"Johnny, stop it! Stop!" Roy shook John hard. Gage stilled and both were breathing hard. "Johnny, tell me what's going on. Why do you need the pills?"

Fear spread across his friend's face. "I do, I just do. Give them back!" He started to reach for them again, but Roy pushed him back.

"That's not an answer. Talk to me Johnny. Let me help you."

John backed up and got the angry look again. "Lemme guess, you know what I'm going through? You know right, because you were an alchoholic right?"

Roy closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. John laughed and it wasn't his usual light hearted one. "Hit a nerve? Hey, didja tell Karen here about that? About how you left Joanne with a baby that isn't even yours to go get wasted on alchohol every night because you couldn't deal?" He looked over at Karen, who was standing with her back against the wall looking between the two men, shocked and a little scared. The mocking tone continued. "You can't come in here and tell me shit about anything, you hypocritical ass!"

Roy balled his fists at his side as the words sank in and the memories came over him.

_The days and nights blended together into oblivion until he couldn't remember anything about them. He knew Joanne was standing in the filthy apartment, a baby on her hip, pleading with him to sober up and come home._

_"Please, Roy, please. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Come home, we need you. Please Roy." The baby started crying..._

He felt Johnny move and his eyes popped open. He put up his hands again to stop him. "Johnny, tell me what's going on, why you had to start taking pills instead of talking to me."

Roy should have seen it, but by the time he saw it coming he couldn't stop it. Johnny was bringing his fist back then forward and that fist connected with Roy's jaw. The surprise of it made Roy stumble back and slam into the cabinet against the wall. The jolt sent pain thorugh his shoulder and he gasped at it. Then he saw Johnny making his way towards Karen and the drugs. Karen looked determined and moved away from the corner, getting a better advantage in case she had to fight back. Before Johnny got too close, Roy grabbed him from behind and swung him around, using his weight to the best advantage.

Once John was facing the other way, Roy let go of him and the momentum of the swing carry Johnny away from him. John stopped short of hitting the wall and spun around then charged at Roy. He swung his fist again and Roy ducked, and then John put his arms around Roy's waist and plowed him into the wall next to the kitchen. Roy grunted and started to puch at Johnny's back while Johnny punched Roy's side. Finally Roy got John off of him, grabbed a fistful of his shirt, then punched him hard in the face. He let go of his shirt when Gage started to drop and let Johnny lay there for a second while Roy caught his breath. Then he bent down and checked his friend over. Okay, for the most part.

"Roy?" He looked up at Karen. Her face was ashen, her eyes wide, and she was clutching the bottles tightly. He sighed and stood, keeping one eye on Johnny, who was unconsiounce, and pulled her into a tight hug. After a moment he moved away rom her and sighed again.

"Are you okay?" She nodded. "I'm gonna call for an ambulance, to take him to the hospital." He ran a hand over his face, wincing when it came in contact with his split lip. "Karen...I'm sorry about what happened."

Her eyes flashed with some anger and some color came back to her face. "What are you apologizing for? You gave Johnny every opportunity to talk to you and he didn't take it." She put the bottles on a chair seat nearby and put both her hands on the side of his face. "It'll be okay Roy, we'll help Johnny."

Roy quirked a one sided smile and wished he could share her optomism. He knew from personal experience that addicts had to want help for themselves before they could actually get it. He rested his forhead against hers for a minute, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened his eyes again, her green ones were searching his face.

"You and I need to sit down and have a serious talk sometime soon." She nodded and he moved away. He called for the ambulance, then called Hank Stanley, gave a breif explination, listened to the curses on the other end, then agreed to talk to him and the Chief at the hospital.

It wasn't until he actually got to the hospital that the entire situation sank in and he felt incredibly tired and very old.

**Black-Angel-001: O.O i know right? so, this has taken some interesting twists....click the button again! you know you wanna!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Saving Me**

"_Don't be surprised when we hate this tomorrow, God knows we tried to find an easier way....but I know in time we'll find this was no surprise_." --Daughtry, _'No Surprise'_

At the hospital, a nurse pointed out to him that his shoulder was bleeding and a doctor's inspection of the area showed a few popped stiches. So he suffered through a restitching and general look over which showed some early bruises that would be painful later but nothing more. Roy's saving grace was that Dixie, Brackett, Early and Morton weren't on duty to ride him about any of it.

But then he had to deal with an irate captain and cheif.

"Roy, what the hell happened," asked Hank when Roy was close enough. Karen was sitting quietly close by and he nodded at her to let her know he was okay.

"John Gage needs to be pulled off duty because of a drug problem," Roy said with no preamble.

"What?" The chief engineer frowned and Hank looked stunned.

"What kind of drug problem," asked chief. Roy sighed for what felt like the thousandth time that night.

"Prescription apparently. Myself and Karen St. James found prescription pill bottles in his apartment and he was coming down from a high."

"Was he working while on these drugs?"

Roy hesitated. "I...suspect," he finally said. He felt like a heel, like a snitch. But, this was Johnny's life! The lives of patients and the crew! He couldn't hold anything back when the danger to others was present.

Hank turned to the chief. "Sir, I didn't think...I had no idea..."

Chief held up his hand, stopping the captain's words. "Stanley, if you knew you would have reported it, I know. DeSoto when did you find out?"

"For sure? Tonight. I suspected when I went out on that call a few days ago, when I got shot. I was actually going to go see him after shift."

"Why didn't you tell someone?"

"Because I didn't want to wave around accusations in case they turned out to be false. That's a way to ruin partnerships and careers." For a minute, they all flashed back to Ed Morrow and his brother. "When I knew for sure, I was going to call you cap."

Cap nodded and Chief look thoughtful, then he shook his head. "Alright. Gage is suspended without pay, and will appear before a special commitee to see what other action, if any, should be taken. We'll also have to bring the police in."

"Why?" It was bad enough already for Johnny, what were the cops for?

"He's getting the drugs from somewhere and I don't believe they were legally gotten." He saw the concern and worry on the faces of the captain and paramedic, and tried to reassure them. "He's in good standing with the department, has a good history. We're gonna try to get him some help, no matter what."

Roy turned and looked down the hallway of the hospital, as if he knew exactly where Johnny was. "I don't think he's going to accept it," he said quietly and to himself.

The three men talked some more before chief left to make some calls. Roy assured Hank that he would be okay and he would call if something happened then Hank left, to find an open bar maybe, Roy thought. Then it was just him and Karen in the waiting room and they didn't say a word.

"I'm going to check on him, then we can go," he said softly.

"Roy, about that talk...it can wait a few days." She had questions, so many questions, but this was hard enough for Roy as it was and she didn't want to add to that.

Roy shook his head. "No, tomorrow, if that's okay." Karen nodded.

"I'm off. What about the kids?"

"They'll be in school most of the day and then Sharon is staying at my place for a few months while she works. We can go to the park or something."

Then Roy was in Johnny's hospital room where his friend lay on the bed sleeping. They had him under sedation because he couldn't seem to stay still even if he was asleep. Roy saw that Johnny still twitched occasionally and his eyes were moving rapidly behind his eyelids.

He shifted his arm in the new sling a nurse had given him. "Johnny, I'm sorry. I didn't have any idea what was going on with you, and I should have. I'm more sorry that you felt like you couldn't come to me with your problems, that you couldn't talk to me. Jesus Johnny, what happened? What the hell happened to us?" Roy looked at Johnny for a long moment, then shook his head. "I'm gonna help you as much as you'll let me, as much as I'm able. I let you down enough already, I'm not going to let it happen again."

The nurse came in to take Johnny's vitals and Roy left.

Around mid morning the next day, Karen and Roy went to the park and walked slowly down the paths. They passed a few people, but no one payed them much attention.

"What should we talk about first," mused Karen.

"How far do you want this relationship to go? I mean, do you want to date and go from there," asked Roy. He knew what he wanted, but he had to be sure about what Karen wanted.

"Roy, I want as much as you'll give me, wether it's a romantic relationship or just friendship." She ducked her head and looked at him through her bangs. "But if you can't move past your wife then I don't think we'll go anywhere."

"Okay I'll be honest." Mentally, Karen braced herself. "I miss Joanne. I still love her, I don't think I'll ever stop. I can't. That doesn't mean I won't ever love anyone again. If I do, I'm just not honoring Joanne and what I believe, what I know, her wishes would be." He took her arm and stopped them, looking her in the eye. "I really do care about you, and I don't want to hurt you. And as long as I'm being honest I'm going to tell you that I won't be able to let go of Joanne's murder until they catch they guy who did it."

Karen thought about that as she started forward again Roy trailing behind her. She got that he would always love his wife, she understood that. He wasn't going to let go of finding love again which was a relief for her to hear. As for him not letting go of his wife's murder, that she could understand too. She didn't think it would take him over to where he focused only on that, he had too many responsibilities to allow for that. Thinking hard and looking inside of herself, Karen decided she could live with that, or try to.

"Alright." They walked a few more feet in silence. "So you were an alchoholic?"

Roy winced. "Not a time of my life I'm proud of, but yes. I started drinking regularly in Vietnam, it helped make things more berable. I only drank off duty then, but as the months went on I drank more heavily then I got a letter from Joanne and...let's just say that my sober moments were few and far."

"What was the letter about?" She had a feeling that it was all tied together somehow and a little scared. Did she really want to know what he was about to share? Guess so, if she was asking.

"We'd gotten married before I left and I was in 'Nam for a year and a few months when I got a letter saying she was pregnant. She never told me who it was, I never asked, and I don't ever want to find out. When I got home, the baby was almost a year old, and I was still drinking. Eventually it got to the point where I stopped paying the bills, we got thrown out of the apartment, Joanne stayed with a friend and I crashed wherever I could. Then one day I woke up in the hospital after giving myself alchohol poisoning and got scared straight."

"Oh, I'm so sorry." Karen put her hand in his and squeezed. He squeezed back and stared straight ahead.

"It was my own fault, there's no exscuse for it. I almost lost Joanne, my son, my life because I couldn't deal, like Johnnhy said."

"Roy, you did the best you could," she began.

"Nope, didn't even do that. It's over now, I've moved past it."

"So, Chris isn't...?"

"He's my son, in every way except biologically. But he is mine, no matter what." Roy said it with force and pride, leaving no doubt whatsoever that no matter how much Joanne's betrayl may have hurt at the time, he was truely past it and saw only the son he loved.

"Now Miss St. James, still want to date an old alchoholic?"

"You aren't an alchoholic, you're a paramedic and fireman," Karen said firmly. The past was important but only in what you learned from it. Her grandfather believed that, and so did she. A man was what he made himself and Roy was a good man, one she was proud of and happy to know.

The silence fell between them again, but it was comfortable and their hands were still linked. Roy sighed.

"This thing with Johnny isn't going to be easy."

"I know, but we'll help him and we'll all get through this."

Roy and Karen smiled at each other and this time, Roy did share her optomism.

**Black-Angel-001: so we end on a happy note! not gonna be happy forever though....click the little green button now? pwease?**


	14. Chapter 14

**Saving Me**

"_The wheel in the sky keeps on turning, I don't know where I'll be tomorrow_." -Journey, _'Wheel in the Sky'_

Johnny's normally bright, cheerful and friendly dissposition had been replaced by silence, glares, and a cold shoulder. He'd been taken off the sedative his second day in the hospital, which enabled the chief engineer to come and tell him that he was suspended without pay until a comittee decided what to do with him. Oh, and the cops were going to talk to him about the criminal charges being filed against him.

Fuck 'em all.

It was all Roy's fault, he told himself as he scowled at the wall across from him. If Roy hadn't shown up at his apartment, he never would have found the pills. If Roy hadn't found the pills, he'd still be able to work. If Roy had minded his own business, everything would be alright. The more he thought about it, the more Johnny convinced himself it was Roy's fault. If Roy hadn't decided that Ed Morrow wasn't a good paramedic, then Joseph Campbell wouldn't have cut Roy's rope, wouldn't have tried to kill Johnny. If Roy had passed Ed Morrow, then Johnny wouldn't have nightmares.

Fuck Roy DeSoto.

Johnny turned his scowl to the IV hanging near him. They were giving him mild painkillers to help wean him off the hard stuff. At least that was what the nurse had told him. He didn't want it though; the IV or the room, or the handcuffs that were waiting for him in the future. Johnny just didn't want to stay there a second longer, period. So, after the nurse came to check on him and get his vitals, John removed the IV, found his clothes, and walked out of the room then out of the hospital. He didn't have his car or the money for a cab, so he just walked, not in any real direction or with any particular destination in mind.

"Hello, DeSoto residence," Roy said, balancing the phone between his ear and good shoulder as he pulled on the sling.

"Hello Mr. DeSoto, this is Detective Sean Oliver. I was calling to see if you had time to come to the station this afternoon."

"What for?"

"To answer a few questions and fill out a statement about the John Gage case."

Well, there was something he'd never thought he'd hear in his life.

"I suppose. What time?" And there was something he'd never thought he'd say in his life.

"Around one. Detective Burnes wants to see you as well," Oliver told him.

His heart caught in his throat. Roy hadn't talked to Burnes and Barton since the thing with Campbell. They said goodbye, hung up, then all he could do was wait an hour and a half.

The police station was as busy as it usually was. As a desk seargeant led him through the hallways to Detective Oliver, Roy looked around him. They passed a bullpen of officers and Roy did a double take. Walking out of the bullpen with two cops flanking it was a... gorilla? The gorilla waved at him and the cops with it and inside the pen started laughing. Roy chalked it up to a cop joke.

The seargeant took him as far as the doorway, pointed out the right set of desks, then left. Roy stood akwardly just inside the door. At the desks of Oliver and his partner were three men, all in suits, and two of them seemed to be in a somewhat heated argument. He didn't want to walk in on something that wasn't his business so he waited a few minutes. When there seemed to be a lull in the conversation, Roy went over.

"Detective Oliver," he asked, looking between the men.

The one actually sitting at a desk rose and offered a hand.

"Mr. DeSoto, glad you could make it." When he had his hand back, he waved it to the man with dark, short cropped hair still shooting glares at the taller man. "My partner, Dean Winchester, and one of our states fine attorneys, Sam Winchester."

"Are you two related," he asked, glancing between the two.

"Yes, we're brothers, "Sam said while still wearing his cheeky grin.

"Sometimes I wonder there, gigantor," muttered Dean.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Dean if you didn't shoot scissors all the time you might actually win once in a while." He looked at his watch. "Gotta go talk a judge into not allowing bail, but when I come back in half an hour you are so buying me lunch."

"I wonder if I can arrest you for being a smartass to a cop," mused Dean to himself.

"You can try, but it won't hold up because I'm not being a smartass, I'm holding you to a fair loss," Sam said over his shoulder in parting.

"Damn it!" Roy figured from his expression Dean hadn't meant to say anything out loud.

"Are you quite finished," asked Sean with exaggerated patience. With one last grumble about brother, Detective Winchester sat at his desk and started pulling out papers. Roy took the chair offered to him and so the questions began. Most of them were fairly standard: How long had he known Johnny? Did they work well together? Did Johnny get along with his co workers? Some of them were harder to answer, like if Johnny ever mentioned a past history of substance abuse, did Roy know he was stealing pills from Rampart General. They went over the night Roy and Karen went to the apartment again and again, picking out anything he said that wasn't the same as the last time he said it. Finally they were satisfied to let him write out the statement and sign it.

While he was signing it, Winchester's phone rang and Roy didn't thing anything of it until the man gave a low growl of, "What?", shot a glance at Roy, then at Oliver.

"When?" Dean made a few notes. "Okay, do you know how long...right. Yeah. Alright. Thanks." He hung up, scribbled little more, then looked at his partner and said, "John Gage is missing."

Sean swore and ran a hand over his face. "Great. Okay get an APB out on him, consider him dangerous and maybe armed."

"Johnny isn't-" roy started to protest but Dean cut him off.

"He's a drug addict who may or may not be high and willing to do whatever he has to to get a fix. Our guys can't take any unnecessary chances out there."

There was a truth to that. No matter how much Roy didn't like it, the police had to take in all considerations for their safety and the safety of the public. Dean stood to go put out the report and Sean stood as well.

"Come on, I'll walk you to Burnes' desk."

A dismissal if he ever heard one.

Neither Barton nor Burnes was at their desks, but Oliver left him there with an assurance it was okay to wait and that they'd be in touch. Roy waited for about fifeteen minutes before Barton showed up.

"Mr. DeSoto, thanks for coming." The detective eyed the sling Roy was wearing. "What happened there? Beam fall on you?"

Roy quirked a rin. "Shot, actually. So, you wanted to talk to me?"

Barton nodded and pulled out some papers. Roy wondered if cops did that for show or if they had some kind of relevance.

"We may have a lead in your wife's murder."

That wasn't exactly what Roy wanted to hear. "May have? You aren't sure?"

"We're working with a department in Arizona, and with the back log both departments have, it's slower than we'd like."

"Arizona?" Roy frowned and shifted so his bad arm was resting on the desk. "What did you find?"

"Me and my partner looked at new and old hit and run cases in California that had any similar evidence to your wife's case. Car color, make, model, that sort of thing. We looked at driver's records who had past or current cases against them, but none of what we found worked out in the end. We did find something else though, got in touch with the right people and end up with a lead that looks very promising."

Roy leaned back, stunned. Barton made it all sound so casual, like it wasn't anything big that they'd spent hours upon hours of what time they had going over paper trails and dead ends without getting any sort of extra pay for it. Hell, they probably didn't get a pat on the back. And Roy knew they would just shrug off the praise, say they were doing their job. He cleared his throat.

"So how does Arizona figure in?"

"Witness said the plates on the car weren't California, they were Arizona," Burnes said, coming up next to Roy with a file in hand.

"Is that...?" Barton waved at the file.

"No." Burnes shook his head. "Current case." He set the folder down and turned back to Roy. "We think we found a match to the car that hit your wife. When the lab comes back, we'll either grab the guy or move to the next one, based on the findings."

"I don't know what to say," Roy told them, trying to process everything. "Thank you. You probably put in a lot of off hours and I really appreciate it. Thank you."

Burnes smiled. "Just part of the job Mr. DeSoto. I'm sorry we can't tell you we have the guy in custody."

Roy shook his head. "No, you're doing more than what anyone else may have...thank you."

He didn't feel right just saying 'thank you' but he didn't have anything better to offer.

"With any luck we may give you that good news," Burnes said, straightening. Roy stood and shook their hands. "I'll walk with you to the front."

Roy waved the offer away. "I'm fine, you have work. Thanks again."

"Alright, take care." The pair bent over the folder Burnes had brought.

Roy was still wondering about it walking down the hallway. When he passed the bullpen where he saw the gorilla, Roy paused. A man in handcuff with a bruised and bloody face was being led to a chair, his lawyer following behind with an unhappy expression. Even at the door, Roy could hear the man's almost desperate mantra.

"A gorilla beat me up, a gorilla beat me up."

**Black-Angel-001: aha, bet you thought i forgot about joanne's murder...okay so i did but here it is so it's all good in the hood. note for you all that you should pay heed to! the saying goes 'luck favors the prepared' so i'm taking it to heart. there's some research i have to do for this fic (and another one...or two....if you're good little reviewers....) and since i have time to spare these days (curses the lumberjack business or lackthereof) then i'm getting it all done in one fell swoop. in a nutshell, i'm devoting time to make sure i have accurate information, cause i loves yal that much and want you to have a good reading experience (which sailed right out the window first chapter in lol) and while the next chapter should be posted by next friday, saturday at the latest, i wanted you to know now....this is waaaay too long...anywhos! there ya be jelly bean...and i've got to stop using these ridiculous phrases....arg! stop typing!!!!! **


	15. Chapter 15

**Saving Me**

"_I understand about indecision...but all I want is to have my piece of mind_." -Boston, _'Peace of Mind'_

For the first time since he'd left the reservation, John didn't know where he slept or who the house belonged to, if anyone. He didn't want to go back to his apartment in case the cops were waiting for him. Instead he spent the night in an abandonded house that had obviously been 'borrowed' before if the empty bottles, food cartons, and the two ratty blankets he used were any indication. Johnny spent the entire night and half of the next day huddled in the blankets in a corner, shaking from more than the cold.

When he got up in the late afternoon he had moments of shaking uncontrolably, and he was sweating. He was naseous but didn't have anything in his stomach to throw up and dry heaved for about five minutes. He stumbled to his feet, waited out the light-headed dizzines and a hard shiver, then moved to go out the door.

The sunlight that hit his eyes made him want to pass out.

Johnny stumbled out of the house and to the nearby park, not really noticing his surroundings or the people staring at him. Or, if he did notice it was just too much to process in his mind. He found a secluded bench in the shade and sat down, letting the shivers and tremors run through him and wiping at his forehead. It hurt, it really hurt. God, why couldn't the pain just go away? Johnny wrapped his arms around his middle and prayed for the first time in a long time, not noticing the two police officers heading his way.

"Sir, are you alright?"

Yes, I'm just shivering outside in the warm air for my own benifet, he wanted to reply but couldn't around his chattering teeth.

"What's your name?"

"J-Johnny."

The cops exchanged glances with each other. "Johnny what?"

"Ga-Gage."

The two had a silent conversation with each other. While one went back to the car to call for medical assistance, the other stayed with Johnny, still asking questions. He couldn't answer beyond one worded and short sentances because of the fever and pain. The officer realized fairly quickly that Johnny was in the firm grips of a beginning withdrawl and just drapped the blanket from the trunk of the car around the shaking shoulders, waiting for the ambulance.

Johnny was too far inside of himself and his pain to really take in and process what was going on; he couldn't have even if he wanted to. He sat and accepted the prodding with no fuss and no objection. Finally, the paramedics loaded him into the ambulance and back he went to Rampart. He accepted what was done there, thankful more than anything for the warm blankets they put over him. He saw Dixie, and she looked very sad, but he didn't have the brain power to think of why or how to fix it. When a familiar warmth filled his veins, he sighed in contentment and let himself fall asleep.

"Is that really necessary," asked Brackett, looking pointedly at the handcuffs that attatched Johnny to his hospital bed.

" 'Fraid so, doc," the cop replied, checking the bonds. "He's a flight risk and unless it will affect his treatment, he's gotta have them."

"He's not under arrest is he," the doctor asked.

"No, he wasn't lucid enough at the scene. When he's awake and coherent, we'll read him his rights then. In the meantime, there's going to be a cop at the door, in case he picks the lock."

"Johnny can't pick a lock!" Brackett put his fists on his hips and looked the officer up and down like he was crazy.

The cop merely chuckled and shook his head, gathering his hat and walking toward the door. "Boy, if I had a dime..." The door closed behind him, leaving Brackett alone with Johnny.

Kel stared at his friend a moment, taking in the dark stubble on his face, the lines of pain, stress, and use. He looked skinnier, like he hadn't had a decent meal in a while. Knowing how addicts behaved, Brackett figured that was the case. Brackett put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it gently, took one last look and then left as well.

When Johnny opened his eyes, he was on something, but wether it was soft, hard, or otherwise was a different matter. For all he knew, it was a bed of needles, which was pluasible since that was what it felt like. He hurt all over, he felt sick to his stomach, and the light was insanely bright. Who put such bright lights in a hospital room. He lifted a hand to rub at his eyes, but he couldn't. Pure, unfiltered panic went screaming through his system, adding to his growing headache but he didn't pay any attention to that at the moment. Why wouldn't his arm move? He tried again, still met the same resistance. Then the familiar clang of metal against metal reached his ears. Turning his head, Johnny looked at his right hand, blinking and running his tounge over dry lips. Handcuffs. He was handcuffed to the bed. Hospital bed, apparently. Hospital? When had he gotten there? He'd left...hadn't he?

Johnny was so confused and turned upside down. The door to his room opened. Brackett, followed by a police officer, came in, both looking less than happy. Well, Brackett always looked like that, so what was the cop's exscuse? Johnny chuckled dryly at his own joke and coughed. Brackett helped him sip some water, then wordlessly looked over the equipment hooked to him, the IV line, his vitals. The silence unnerved Johnny, because Brackett, though not a big conversationlist, did speak to people he was examining. The cop looked on with the same level of solemn silence.

"Well, his blood pressure is still a little elavated, but in this situation that's normal. Everything is good," Brackett said to the cop while avoiding eye contact with Johnny.

"Hey, I am in the room, you know," he croaked out tersley.

"Mr. Gage," the cop said, walking up to his bedside, "I'm Officer James Nash, LAPD. Please listen closely to what I'm about to tell you." Cautiously, Johnny nodded and Nash continued. "John Gage, you are under arrest for suspicion of illegal theft, possession and use of a controlled substance. I'm going to read your rights now." He pulled a card out of his shirt pocket and read from it. "You have the right to remain silent, if you give up the right to remain silent, anything you say can be used against you. You have the right to have an attorney present during questioning. If you cannot afford an attorney, the court will provide one for you. Do you understand these rights as I have just read them to you?"

Johnny blinked at Officer Nash, in a shocked stupor. He'd heard the words, had a faint idea of what it all meant, but the officer wasn't really arresting him for all that was he? They had to be talking about someone else, didn't they?

"Mr. Gage? Do you understand?"

"Um, yeah," replied Johnny.

It hit him with frightning clarity that those were the charges against him and no one else. But it still didn't really make sense to him, because he just took the medicine to help him sleep, that was all. He couldn't sleep so he took the medicine and when he ran out, he had to take some more. But even thinking that, a little part of him screamed distantly that it was more than that, and he ignored the voice.

"I want," he stopped to clear his throat. Brackett handed him the cup of water again, and Johnny started over. "I want a lawyer," he said.

Nash nodded and walked out, having nothing more to say in that case. Brackett and Johnny were left alone and the doctor seemed to want to say something but couldn't get the words. Johnny lay back, starring at the ceiling and ignoring the failed starts and cut off words. Eventually, Brackett left too and Johnny was left alone with his own rationalizations.

**Black-Angel-001: so is johnny closer to realization? is he getting that much closer to getting better? i hope so, it'll reflect well, won't it? still got some research to do and the next chapter should be up wednsday, maybe thursday. monday the week after next is the latest. **


	16. Chapter 16

**Saving Me**

**Black-Angel-001: okies, so for now the oil spill is not heading our way (thank god) and after all the necessesary training, i am now on stand by, regulated to trash pick up every weekend...not so much fun...freakin' necessesary evil...anywho, here's the newest chapter. hoping for another update next weekend after trash duty and/or work (crosses fingers and toes)**

_"Angus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, miserere nobis. Angus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, dona nobis pacem." -Angus Dei_

Chris watched his father closely, looking for a hint of whatever he wanted to talk about. Lines of stress and worry were around his dad's mouth and eyes and he kept shifting his arm in the sling. Jenny was sitting next to her brother, apparently oblivious to the tension in their parent.

"Kids, there are some things I need to talk to you about, and it's very serious," Roy started, leaning forward and looking between them.

Jenny nodded solemnly and Chris tilted his head just enough to acknowledge the words.

"Your Uncle Johnny hasn't been around in a while," he said after a deep breath.

"You said he was sick," piped in Jenny.

This time Roy nodded. "That's right, he is. He's also in some trouble."

"Really bad trouble," asked Chris. Being the oldest and very observant of what went on around him, especially his family, he understood and saw alot. He knew the difference between trouble and _trouble_.

Roy recognized the expression on his son's face and smiled sadly. "Yes, really bad. But, if we stick with him and help him, Uncle Johnny can get better."

"Can I send him a picture and a letter," Jenny asked brightly. She really liked drawing things for people when they were sick.

Roy reached over and stroked a hand from the top of her head to the side of her face.

"I think that's a great idea, honey." He dropped his hand and looked at Chris. "You can write him a letter too, son."

"When can we see him, do you know," asked the boy.

"I don't know that, but I can find out," assured their father. He cleared his throat. "Now, the next thing I want to talk to you about. Miss Karen and I have decided to start dating."

Both children paused. Chris had wondered and suspected, but kept it to himself. Jenny knew what her dad meant, but she didn't reall want to accept it so her denial came out as ignorance.

"What do you mean, daddy," she asked.

"I mean that Miss Karen and I really care about each other and want to try being together in a romantic relationship."

"No," Jenny said firmly.

"No what, Jenny?" Roy flashed back to when Jenny was three and had trouble saying what she wanted. 'Jenny, use your words.'

"I don't want you to date Miss Karen," she said.

"Why? Has she said something or done something?" He doubted it, but he had to ask to ease his mind and be sure.

"No, she hasn't." Jenny turned her head away, crossed her arms over her chest.

"Then why don't you want us to date?"

"Because."

"Because why," he asked again, feeling a little frustrated.

Jenny remained stubbornly silent until Chris gave her a gentle nudge. She looked at her big brother then mumbled something.

"Say it again, Jenny," prompted Chris.

"I don't want a new mom," she said firmly and with some heat.

Roy's expression became confused. "What do you mean?"

"Jarod and his brother Jensen got a new dad after their parents split up and their mom dated someone. And Sue has a new mom after hers died," explained Jenny. "I don't want a new mom."

"Oh sweetheart," Roy breathed. He sat next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"I want my mom, not a new one," she said, tears spilling down her cheeks. "I want my mommy!"

Roy pulled her into his lap and let her cry. He murmmured to her, kissed her head, and stroked her hair. Finally, Jenny's crying became sniffles and Roy pushed away to look at her.

"Jenny, listen closely, okay," he told her while brushing away the remains of her tears. "Chris, you too."

Roy closed his eyes and prayed for the wisdom and words he needed.

"No one can replace your mother. No one can ever be your mom like she was, and any woman who would try to isn't worth marrying. That being said, I don't know if I'll marry Miss Karen, or anyone else. I don't know where this relationship will lead, if anywhere. Are we clear on this?"

They nodded and Roy swallowed hard as he got to the main problem.

"I know you guys miss your mom; I do too. And, I would give almost anything to have her back with us, to bring her back. But, I can't bring her back. It's okay to miss her, to think about her, and lover her no matter what happens or who comes into our lives. I don't want you to forget her, but I don't want you to close your hearts to other people. Mom wouldn't want that for you, for us; she'd want us to be as happy as we can until we see her again."

The kids thought about it and Jenny asked, "Do you miss her lots, daddy?"

"Everyday," he choked out. It was true, he did miss her everyday. Sometimes it got to the point where he'd just want to sit down and cry for hours, but those days were fewer and fewer now. Because of Karen, the pain of loss was beginning to heal.

"Sometimes I forget to miss her," whisphered Jenny, as if sharing a secret.

"When you do, is it because of something really happy?"

Jenny nodded, looking a little ashamed.

"That's okay, too," assured Roy. "Because you're happy, you're sharing that with mom and making her happy too."

"Does that mean she's sad when we're sad," asked Chris.

"Maybe a little," admitted Roy, unable to lie to his children even to comfort. "That's part of loving someone, even from heaven."

"So she still loves us," came the whisphered question from Jenny.

"What did she tell you every night when you went to sleep and every morning when you woke up," Roy asked them.

"Brush your teeth," Chris said promptly.

"Hurry and get ready," supplied Jenny.

Roy chuckled lightly. "Not those, although she did say them alot. No, the most important thing."

"I'll love you forever, I'll love your for always," Chris said quietly and with reverance.

Since conception, there is an emotional bond between a mother and her child, and from birth a physical one. From the first knowledge of pregnancy on, mother's love their children, and children love their mother's. It's a pact forged by nature and strengthened over time. It's never ending and eternal, it's pure and light; even in the worst moments, it's there. Having the verbal confirmation of that love helps make it brighter and surer, and that's what Joanne gave her children every day: all aspects of that sacred love God forged between mother and child.

"She can't not love you two," Roy said with a smile. "She said so herself, didn't she."

All around, everyone felt better, more sure. Jenny went to her room and Chris started to head for his but Roy called him back.

"Son, come here." When Chris was seated next to him on the couch, Roy said, "You never said how you felt about Miss Karen and I dating."

Chris sat back and seriously considered the situation. He remembered his father right after his mother died, how he cried alot, didn't smile or laugh at all. He thought about when he caught his dad sitting at the kitchen table late at night, bills spread on the table and looking defeated and lost. He thought about the half hearted laughs and smiles, the extra shifts, the time in the hospital. He thought about how his dad looked like he was loosing a battle he wasn't really fighting.

Then he thought about how his father's expression grew just a bit lighter when he was Miss Karen. He thought about the real smiles and laughs his father had found since meeting her. He thought about how his dad's shoulders weren't so slumped, how his eyes weren't as dull. He thought about how his dad seemed to be looking less and less like he'd lost before he tried. He thought about how his father actually fought harder now.

Chris thought about hose things and when he compared them, he didn't really need to make a hard choice. He liked Miss Karen, anyway. She was funny, she played guitar, she could even play football and softball. More than that, he liked her for making his dad laugh again.

"I'm okay with it," he finally said with full honesty. "Jenny will be too, she's just gotta get to know Miss Karen some more."

"Alright, but tell me if you start to get uncomfortalbe with her," stressed Roy.

Chris smiled at him, said, "Yes, sir," and went to his room. Roy stared after him a bit, then leaned against the back of the couch with a sigh.


	17. Chapter 17

**Saving Me**

_"Play the game tonight, can you tell me if it's wrong or right? Is it worth the time is it worth the price? Can you see yourself in the wide spotlight?" _-Kansas, _'Play the Game'_

It was another late night spent working, going over reports and statements and generally going over everything with a fine tooth comb. Adam Barton tossed his pencil down onto his desk, propped his elbows up on the wood, and scrubbed both hands over his facce. He was burning the proverbial candle at both ends, and it was starting to show. His eyes had dark shadowns around them and prominet lines of exhaustion were on his face. His latest lead was bouncing from police station to police station, trying to get it checked and verified and followed up. He moved his hands so they rested as fists under his chin and stared past the tiny lamp light into his living room. Adam knew that Todd was doing the same thing as him, but they needed a better plan. Both of them could be totally exhausted at work, it would affect their job too severly.

Really, though, they shouldn't be working unofficial overtime on this case anyway. It was still technically a cold case until the lead panned out, and there were at least two current homicide cases that would better benifit the use of time. Besides that, just having unofficial overtime was potential trouble. If he or Todd were confronted about after work work, they could get in trouble with the time clerk, the pay clerk, the sergeant in charge of the clerks, and the captain.

And really, why was this currently unsolved case of a hit and run getting to him so badly? He'd had unsolved homicides before,* many still in a box collecting dust in the basement. Todd hadn't been working homicide long, but even he had cold cases from his previous spots. Both men were perfectly capable of going to sleep without regretfully thinking about a cold case months afterwards. They certainly didn't dig back into the files and grasp at straws and work on a wing and a prayer. Why did they for this one?

_'Maybe because there are too many with the same story_,' Adam thought ruefully as he leaned back.

Domestic homicides crossed his desk more often than vehicular homicide,* but they all had a common factor: someone was always left behind. But more importantly for his job, people weren't able to usually see a thing, if any people were around. When a driver runs, it becomes a test of skill and police work to catch the guy. All around, too many get away in the end.*

Barton's drive may very well have come from the victim's family. A husband and two little kids forever wondering "who", and "why", that was something you couldn't let go of until you saw the guilty person in the court room getting his sentance.

Maybe too, it had something to do with the fact that the husband was a fireman and veteran. Police officers and firemen often times worked closely together, relying on each other. But at the end of the day, the cops preffered the company of cops and the firemen preffered the company of firemen; otherwise, friendly competition and banter turned serious and fists could fly.

Alright, so Adam felt an obligation to DeSoto because of his past military service. He'd been in the Marines at Vietnam and wouldn't be alive today if it weren't for the medic that gave him field treatment. The guys ribbed on the medics and foremen plenty of times and gave them a hard time about their non-infantry status, but those same guys giving hell were all thinking, 'Thank God you're here!' and the medics knew it.

There was no way of knowing if DeSoto was the medic who'd saved his life before (a real possibility), but wether or not that was the case, his Marine mantra of 'Never leave a man behind or down' seemed to be pushing him to solve this.

_'Even if DeSoto was Army_,' he grinned.

The case against John Gage wasn't as solid as Sam Winchester would have liked. Nobody saw him actually take the pills from Rampart, so that was heresay. If he had a supplier, he wasn't saying. If he was working while taking drugs, he wasn't saying on that either.

"Sam, relax man," his older brother said while handing him a beer. "We've got him on possession, at least."

"Yeah, and he'll do a few months in jail then get out and start using again," sighed the young attorney. He'd seen it happen time and time again.

"That's the way it is. Anyway, he's still got the thing with the fire department, maybe they can do more," offered Dean. He wasn't unsypmathetic to his brother, he was just facing the reality of the situation.

Sam shook his head and took a drink. "The only thing they're really obligated to do is fire him if he doesn't get clean. If they keep him on for the suspected use of narcotics while on the job." He thought for a minute. "Maybe I can..."

Dean threw a pillow from the couch at Sam's face. "No. Nuh-uh. This is hang out, party and relax time. You can work tomorrow."

Sam threw the pillow back with a grin and kept up the brotherly banter, but in the back of his mind, he formulated a plan.

"All rise, the Honorable Judge Troy James presiding," the baliff called through the courtroom.

The judge sat at his bench and waved for everyone to sit back down. He flipped through a folder, read silently for a moment, then looked at Johnny.

"Mr. Gage, I understand you were approached with a deal by Mr. Winchester here," he asked.

Johnny stood, straightening his jacket. "Yes, your honor."

"And refused it." It was more of a statement than a question.

"Yes, sir."

"Alright. So, we have you on trial for possession of narcotics." Judge James moved something to his right. "How does the defendant plead?"

John's lawyer stood next to him. "Guilty, your honor." They both sat and Sam stood.

"Your honor, the people move for a maximum of eighteen months in prison, with a possibility of parole in six months. Or a minimum of six months and no parole."

John's lawyer stood again. "Sir, this is Mr. Gage's first real charge, with an otherwise spotless record. The maximum sentance in this case would be much too harsh."

Sam gritted his teeth. If he wasn't careful, the liberal judge would go against him for the littlest thing.

"Yes, exactly why we also put in the request for six months jail time," he responded.

"With no parole," put in the defense attorney.

"For pills," scoffed the man.

"For illegally gained prescription drugs that Mr. Gage had no prescription for," argued Sam, a little incredolous.

"That's enough, thank you gentlemen." Judge Troy James sat back, fingers tapping and face considering.

Sam sighed and slumped his shoulders. The verdict was not going to be good for his side, or John Gage.

"I agree with Mr. Peart, eighteen months is a bit harsh. So is six months for a first time offense with no prior record and a good history with the fire department." More finger drumming. "So," he drew out, "I'm going to say three years probation with random drug tests. How's that, everybody happy?"

Nobody said anything. Jude James pounded his gavil once and left.

Sam had his briefcase packed and was ready to go back to the office but after a pause down the walkway between the public seating area, he walked back to the defendants table, where Johnny was talking to his lawyer. The conversation slowed then drifted to a halt as Sam looked him up and down as if measuring him as a person, then looked him directly in the eye.

Hazel eyes dark and blazing with promise, he said in a low voice, "Mr. Gage, if I see you in court again and it's because you ended up killing someone, there will not be any deals. There will not be any negotiating. There will not be any lesser sentance recomended. There will just be me, nailing your ass to the wall in the fullest capability of the law. I will push for the maximum sentance, and I will make sure you get it. Understand?"

In the face of such an intense promise, a warning, Johnny could only swallow hard and nod. The steely expression that made him shudder just a little studied him a moment longer, then sam turned his back to John and walked away tall and sure and just a bit menacing.

It was another warning, one that said not to doubt the sincerity of the words, nor to doubt his will to follow through on them.

Johnny walked out of the courtroom with a victory, but he wondered if it was supposed to sit like stone in his stomach.

**Black-Angel-001: so johnny's fate has been decided in the realm of the criminal world, next is his fate with the department, and whatever else may happen later...like i really know...**

* #1: the estimated number of murders (defined as the willful and nonnegligent killing of one human being by another) was 16, 272

* #2: i didn't find an statistics specifically on vehicular manslaughter, but on domestic homicide (a person(s) who has been killed by a spouse, significant other, or family member) 23.3 percent of victims were killed by family members, 22.0 percent were killed by strangers, and 54.7 percent were killed by neighbors.

* #3: the number of people arrested (not to include suspicion) for murder and nonegligent manslaugter were 12, 955.

information is nationwide for the united states, in the year 2008 (the preliminary report is being compiled for 2009), and has been rounded off. from the FBI statistics database


	18. Chapter 18

**Saving Me**

**Black-Angel-001: i've gotten a few reviews and messages about my spelling...to any and all who in the future may leave a note or whatever about my spelling, you will be redirected to my profile page, where it has a little message in there about the subject. if i recieve another review or whatever from you about this, then you will recieve some unkind words in the hopes it will stick in your brain somewhere. you've been warned here, people. don't get upset if it gets to that point and you're feelings are hurt.**

**Saving Me**

_"My secret side I keep hid under lock and key, I keep it caged but I can't control it. 'Cause if I let him out he'll tear me up, break me down. Why won't somebody come and save me from this, make it end?" _-Skillet, _'Monster'_

The main headquarters for the Los Angelas Fire Department was downtown, and took up most of the block. The smaller of the two buildings was the acadamy, where the cadets became rookie firefighters. The main building, and the largest, held the offices for the chief engineer, the battalion chiefs, fire marshals, and others. it also had small classrooms for various training purposes and two conference rooms.

In one of the conference rooms, the chief engineer, two battalion chiefs, a fire marshal, and a captain were trying to decide the fate of Fireman/Paramedic John Gage. Testimony from 51 captain Hank Stanley, Gage's partner Roy DeSoto, Dr. Kel Brackett and two other shiftmates from 51 had been taken, and now it was up to five men to go through it.

"Frankly, I think we're facing a similar problem as the police," fire marshal Joe Martinez said. "There's no real evidence that Gage was using on shift."

"But we can't take the chance can we," argued Captain Phillip Thomas. "If we put him with a squad, what if he filches medicine from the drug box or takes something from the hospital? We may not have concrete proof he took those pills, but it's pretty strong circumstancial."

The two battalion chiefs nodded in agreement.

One of them, Charles Perry, added, "But you know, we can avoid that if we were to transfer him to a station without a squad. That way, there isn't the issue of that."

"We still have the problem of his actual drug use, which is the main issue here, gentlemen," Chief Engineer Craig Davis said.

A hum of agreement filled the short silence after his statement.

"Well obviously getting him any sort of help he needs is on the table," Martinez said with a hint of a question.

Davis shot a look over at him. "Of course, there's no question about that. However, unless Gage were to voluntarily go to rehab, or go by court order, we can't do much else besides drug tests."

There was a heavy silence, punctuated by the ticking of a clock.

"How about," Perry began tentavily, "what if we put him on probation, like the rookies? During then, he'll get random drug tests and if there's any drugs in his system even once, he's out for good."

Everyone contemplated the idea. It made sense, and even if there wasn't anything the department could do legally about getting Gage to rehab, they could still strongly suggest that he go.*

"Alright, and we're all in agreement to send a recomendation to the paramedic board to revoke Gage's certification and bar him from certification in Los Angelas County," asked chief Davis. Nods all around. "Great, now where will we put him?"

"What about a station he's been to previously? Like Station 8," suggested Battalion Chief Henry Stratford. "There's an opening, he's got some buddies there, I think, and the captain can keep a good eye on him."

None of the men thought that Stanley had dropped the ball on spotting the problem; people were sometimes to complex to read, it didn't help if you were in charge of a firehouse. The general idea was that a fresh set of eyes would be better for the situation, and hoped that the familiar faces and setting would encourage Gage to get real help.

"Sounds like a plan," said Captain Thomas while everyone nodded.

Johnny thought he took the desicion very well, considering. Yes, he knew that some action was required on the department's part, but taking away his certification as a paramedic for good? Really? The drug testing wasn't a surprise either, but it did work in his favor. When he'd told his probation officer about it, the response had been a wave of the hand and a, "Well then, I won't worry about it."

_'The justice system, ladies and gentlemen,_' he thought wryly.

The department was, if nothing else, predictable when it came to the "random" tests. Every second Friday, then a Wednsday in between. It was easy to figure out how much of what would be found once the pattern had been established. And Johnny was careful this time, sneaking to the hospital pharmacy during the really busy time so he wouldn't get caught. He didn't take anything at work, except at the tail end if he could help it. If he couldn't wait that long, he popped Tylenol like it was candy to take the edge off. Sometimes it helped, other times not so much.

Because he was being careful about how much he took and when, though, the cravings and small withdrawls weren't terrible. Johnny could almost act like he was his old self again.

Almost.

Johnny talked to some of the guys from 51 every blue moon, keeping them "in the loop" just enough to keep them from getting wild hair to go see him. He hadn't talked to Roy though since their last conversation sometime after Johnn's department hearing four months ago.

_Johnny went into Station 51 while shifts were changing, hoping to avoid as much conversation as he could. He just wanted to get whatever he'd left in his locker and go back home without any fuss. When he stepped into the locker room, though, he stopped in his tracks and felt like bolting or striding over and throwing a punch. He had to settle for a sigh and a cold attitude since he couldn't do either. Sitting on a bench in front of his locker was one Roy DeSoto. His former partner looked up and watched Johnny move to the locker next to his and start to go through it. Johnny was doing his best to ignore Roy, but every so often he would shift his eyes over to the other man._

_Finally, the starring got to be too much and Johnny turned on his heel and snapped, "What?"_

_Roy's eyes looked over Johnny's face, as if searching for something. John squirmed a little under the scrutiny._

_After about three minutes of silence, Roy stood and began pulling out his uniform to change into. He paused with his hands on the hanger holding his shirt, turned back to John. His face was full of thought, considering._

_"You can call me anytime, if you want or need to talk. Whatever you need, I'll do my best to help you," Roy said._

_Johnny scoffed, vicously pulling out a Smokey the Bear poster. "I think you've 'helped' enough, DeSoto, thanks." There was no mistaking the veiled bitterness in his words and tone._

_Roy stared at him some more then nodded. As Johnny moved away with what little was left from his locker, DeSoto's voice made him pause at the doorway._

_"Johnny, one more thing, okay?" Roy looked at him head on, but it was different from before. There was something dark in his face, some sort of painful memory in his eyes that made Johnny pause and actually take a moment to listen. Roy locked his eyes with John and the younger man felt like Roy was staring at something inside of John, the same thing that John saw in the mirror in the morning in brief flashes, sometimes longer._

_A hopeless, nearly broken man who had too much pain and burden on his shoulders. A man who hated himself more often than not._

_"I'd never trade my worst day sober for my best day drunk." He held Johnny's gaze a moment longer, then smiled just a little, although it seemed to be a shadow of itself. "Take care of yourself, huh?" He started to pull on his uniform._

_Johnny walked out the door and didn't look back._

What the hell had Roy meant by that, exactly? It seemed to escape Johnny, and he felt like he should know the answer. Freakin' DeSoto and his riddles and speaking between the lines.

"Station 8, squad 14, car accident with injuries...intersection of Government St and Navy Blvd...time out, 1425."

Johnny focused on getting his gear on and the ride to the scene.

**Black-Angel-001: note on the *: in no fire department anywhere would this be true. departments have proceedures and stuff for situtations like this and while they all vary they are basically the same. for the purpose of this story and the plot that this is taking, i'm deliberatly screwing with this.**


	19. Chapter 19

**Saving Me**

"_When God is gone and the Devil takes hold, who'll have mercy on your soul_?" -Jen Titus, _'O Death'_

The day, even the week, had been good. Better than it had been in...a while. He no longer used the sling and almost had full range of motion again in his shoulder. Jenny and Karen got along much better than he could have ever hoped once Jenny started to be more of her open and friendly self. Chris was starting to act his age again, laughing and teasing his sister. Roy and Karen themselves were getting closer and closer in the months that had gone by, with every conversation, every joke, shared. Roy and his children were a family, not a broken one, and Karen was starting to become a big part of it.

She was teaching Chris to play the guitar, danced with Jenny in the yard, and when she was over for dinner, helped Roy make it. Everytime they got together (with or without the kids), it became more comfortable, more familiar.

All he was missing was his best friend.

Johnny hadn't talked to him or got in touch with him since that last conversation at 51, four months ago. The guys at the station told him what Johnny told them, that he was fine, things were going well. But the way Johnny had looked that last time, pale, skinnier, drawn, a bit broken, stuck in Roy's mind. Johnny was avoiding Roy on purpose, that much was obvious.

That hurt quite a bit.

Roy wanted to share the things that were going on in his life with Johnny. He wanted to tell him about things with Karen, he wanted to get together and take the kids for a hike, he wanted to tell him about the progress in Joanne's murder (still held up on paperwork, although Barton had hinted at something breaking through). Hell, he just wanted to hand out with him and banter about nothing, talk about everything. He wanted his best friend.

Roy didn't have many people he called friends, even fewer he would say were close friends. Most had died in the war, or after it, and he'd only had two best friends in his whole adult life, Alan Coleman from Vietnam and Johnny. He'd already lost one best friend.

Did he really need to loose another?

The sounds of the start of an argument drew his attention to the back seat. They were going home from Jenny's dance recitle, and even though feelings were good, the kids were still a little miffed at each other for an earlier disagreement that they couldn't seem to let go of.

Chris made some kind of movement at Jenny, but Roy didn't know exactly what since his son was sitting behind him and mostly out of his view. Jenny exclaimed and slapped at him.

"Hey, no hitting, poking, prodding, or pretending to do any of those in the car," he scolded, eyes watching the light at the intersection.

His light turned green and Roy went forward.

He never saw the truck quickly approach on his left.

The impact happened too fast for Roy to avoid it or control it. Metal on metal groaned as it smashed together, the momentum of the truck pushing Roy's car into opposite lanes. Glass flew from everywhere, everything moved in a blur.

Finally, both vehicles came to a grinding halt, momentum, speed, inertia, and gravity working to tip Roy's car onto it's side. By some miricale, the car stayed upright.

People started shouting and screaming.

The pain in Roy's head and neck made everything fuzzy, out of focus. Things were moving so slowly, it sounded like he was underwater. Did the car go into the drink? No, wait, they were well away from any water source. They were going back from somewhere...are the kids arguing?

Awarness came over Roy like a wave, chilling him.

Oh, God, the kids.

You weren't supposed to move after a car accident. You were supposed to stay still and wait for proffessional medical help. Moving meant possibly making injuries worse, or causing new ones.

_Wait for proffessional medical help._

Screw that, Roy was proffessional medical help. He ran a quick inventory on himself. Nothing broken, his head hurt, so did his shoulder and chest. He was okay.

Of course, the adrenaline could have been masking any injuries.

...Maybe.

...Most likely.

...Probably.

But, his children...

Roy winced and groaned and twisted as much as he could after shutting off the engine. All he had was one thought, one mantra, one prayer, that looped through his mind on endless repeat.

_Please not my children, please not my children, please not my children, please, please, please..._

Finally, finally, finally, Roy was able to see Chris and Jenny. He didn't know wether to cry or throw up.

Jenny was slumped against her door, a little trickle of blood running from her hairline down her face. There were cuts on her face and neck from the flying glass, but the blood wasn't gushing. Roy could see his daughter's chest moving up and down, could here her breathing hard. Her eyes were moving behind closed lids and her arm twitched as she groaned.

Alive, his baby girl was alive.

_Thank you, thank you, thank you._

It took alot more manuevering and twisting to see his son, but parental desperation and panic made it possible, despite the pleas and demands from outside the car to stay still.

But Roy was already in motion, already looking at his son and _Oh, God..._

The truck had hit Roy's side, and subsequently, Chris'. The initial contact was somewhere between their doors, but by the end of the slide the front of the truck was pressed against Chris's door, pushing it against him.

Chris was still, listing toward his sister, supported only by his seatbelt. his head was bleeding too, but there was too much for Roy to tell where it was coming from (and that nearly did make him throw up), but like his sister, nothing was gushing that Roy could see. His left arm was bent at an unnatural angle, but no bone was showing. Roy couldn't see much else and it was hard to tell if his son was breathing.

He reached out a hand and fumbled against pain and akward positioning for his son's neck, placing and replacing his fingers until he felt a quick beat under the fingertips, blessedly strong.

His son was alive, too.

Both his children were alive.

_Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, oh God, thank You._

He heard Jenny move and cry out. Roy twisted again so he could put a hand on his daughter's knee.

"D-daddy," she said softly, a little weak.

"Yeah, I'm here." Roy cleared his throat. "How do you feel?"

Her knee shifted. "My head hurts," she said, tears filling her voice. "Daddy, what happened? I'm scared!"

Roy closed his eyes, squeezed her knee gently. "It'll be okay, Jenny. Don't move okay? Be still, don't move your head or anything."

She kept crying. "I'm scared, I wanna go home!"

He swallowed hard. "I know, I know. Just be still for me and try to calm down. We'll be okay, I promise, you'll be okay."

She kept crying, but by God she didn't move.

The familiar sound of sirens reached his ears, picked out and focused on out of all the shouting, questions and demands. Roy figured maybe five minutes had passed since the accident.

_Good response time...wonder what area we're in..oh, yeah, 8._

The sirens drew closer and Roy smiled.

"Hear that, Jenny, Chris, help's coming. An engine and squad, maybe two of each. We're gonna be okay, the guys are coming."

Mr. Stoker and Captain Stanley and them," sniffed Jenny.

Chris didn't say anything.

_God, how I wish_, he thought.

He said, "Probably not, but these guys are good firemen and good paramedics. They'll take care of us, we'll be okay."

_Please answer my prayer one more time. Please don't let that have been a lie._

The engine and squad were pulling up, followed closely by a squad car. More familiar wails travelled through the air, another squad. Roy kept talking to Jenny and Chris, even though Chris didn't respond. He did groan though, at one point, and Roy really felt then that they would be okay.

The first fireman to reach them was the captain of 8. When he saw the three victim's, his eyes went wide and his face pale.

"_Jesus Christ_...Marty," he shouted to a man. "Hurry up and get over here! There's kids!"

When Marty and Will got to the car with some of their gear, they both got the same looks as their captain. Marty even crossed himself.

Roy grinned and looked between the three men. "Come on, do I really...look that bad?"

Cap shook himself and took control. "No worse than usual, DeSoto. It's just...jeez, we're pulling you and your family out and..."

"I know," Roy interupted quietly. He was getting tired, his eyelids were drooping.

"Hey, hey," a voice said sternly from his right. "No sleeping."

"Kids," he muttered in response. There was shouting and cursing and what sounded like a scuffle outside. He wondered if maybe a pedestrian was getting out of line, but one of the voices sounded like Johnny...the thought couldn't seem to stick in his brain, and soon abandoned him.

"We're getting the girl out now, just a little bumb on the head, she'll be okay."

"Chris," he slurred, eyelids falling again.

"He's next, don't worry, we're gonna get him."

"Arm's...broken." So hard to stay awake.

"Yeah I see it. We'll take care of it don't worry."

My job, but he wasn't sure if he said it or not.

More shouting came from outside the car and, panicking for Jenny, Roy's eyes flew open (when had they closed?) and he was searching for her. But it was from somewhere else.

Roy remembered the truck. "D-driver...?"

"Should be okay. Will's checking him out. How 'bout you? You feel okay? How's your head?"

Roy turned away from probing hands and said with all the force he could manage, "Kids 'n..driver, fir-"

He passed out.

Johnny had been to many car accidents in his career, far more than he'd like. He'd never had a problem or freaked out, even on his first one. That all changed when he saw one of the cars involved and recognized it.

He wanted to deny it, told himself it wasn't Roy's car, couldn't be his, but when he was able to get closer, pulling a hose to begin dousing the smoking truck engine, he couldn't deny it when he saw the familiar face turned toward the backseat, blood on his face. It was Roy, and even worse, his kids were in there.

Johnny's first instinct was to run over there and handle it himself and he threw the hose down to do just that. Multiple strong hands gripped at his shoulders and jacket, keeping him from advancing.

"Let go, that's my friend in there," he shouted.

"The medics are handling it Gage, you need to do your job and-"

"I gotta go help him, move!" He pushed again.

"Gage!" Johnny's movements slowed but didn't stop as the captain came over. "Listen, the paramedics have it under control. The girl's almost out and we'll be getting the boy next, then DeSoto. I know you wanna help him, but the best thing you can do is make sure that a fire doesn't start; that's the last thing they need."

Johnny stopped fighting completely, taking one last long and hard look at Roy and his kids hurt in the car, then nodded. Once the restraining hands let him go, Johnny picked up the dropped hose and focused entirely on the task of spraying the engine.

The firemen watched him for a minute. Over the past four months, Johnny had gotten alot of different attitudes from the guys, ranging from a cold shoulder, to nasty remarks, to a distantly friendly conversation. The guys who'd worked with Johnny and knew him as well as was possible, mostly the guys from 51, always defended him from anyone who had negative comments, made him feel welcome when he decided to go to get togethers, like nothing had changed. Others stayed friendly but kept in mind what he'd done, what he'd been accussed of, and his possible future actions, which kept them wary. The general consesus for the older firefighters was a 'wait and see what happens, watch what he does' attitude.

Everyone knew that Roy and John had had a falling out of some kind, that they weren't really friends anymore. The two had made an infamous impact on the department with their working relationship and their strong bond of friendship, so it was depressing for many to think that that was over. John's feelings toward his former friend and how he reacted to Roy's help was a big part of how he was seen to many. Lots of men figured that if John had such a bad attitude to someone who'd tried to save his life from himself wasn't one to be trusted. Add the drug problem and the possibility of using on the job, and there were very few who willingly worked with John Gage.

But, how John reacted once he realized that DeSoto was in fact in the car and hurt, and that his children were there and injured as well, it helped ease some feelings of doubt. Maybe things weren't totally hopeless and lost for Gage if it took four men plus a cop to keep him from someone who supposedly wasn't his friend...although Gage had called DeSoto his friend so..

They allowed cautious optimism to fill them for Gage.

For John's part, he had to concentrate completely on what he was doing, to not look at the other car. He was mad at Roy for interferring in his life, yeah, but he never wanted Roy, much less his kids, hurt like this. Johnny wished he knew how they were, what the injuries were and when bile rose in his throat at the idea and flashbacks came from when he'd found Roy at the bottom of the cliff, he cut that train of though off. When the engines were watered down, Gage turned his attention to spraying the ground around the cars, to spread out the gasoline and oil, trying to keep it from gathering and lighting up. The task finished, he went back to the engine, hoping there was something there he could do to keep his mind off the paramedics putting IVs in the DeSoto family, load them up on gurneys...

Johnny shook himself out of that.

The captain and cop were there talking, and they didn't pay any attention to Johnny. He started to arrange hose, listening in to their conversation despite himself.

"Driver's okay, not a scratch hardly on him," the cop said in disgust.

"I know. Guess God even watches out for the fools and idiots," the cop replied.

"Well, He definetely watched out for DeSoto and his family. Could have been much worse. If his car had tipped like it looks like it wanted to..." cap allowed the statement to trail off.

"Damn shame that this happened."

There was some silence. Then, "Hey, you know what happened to make the guy ignore the light like that," asked cap.

"Guy was high on something, can you believe it? Not enough for drunks to cause wrecks like this, but now that druggies do too? Man isn't even sober enough to fly a kite, though God knows he's trying the way he is now."

"Damn."

The conversation drifted away as the men moved, leaving Johnny in a state of stunned shock. The other driver had been high? High on what? Did it even really matter what, a part of his brain scolded, a part he hadn't heard from in a long time. He was high, that's all that matters. He was driving high and nearly killed your best friend and his family.

Johnny sank onto the back of the engine, head spinning.

**Black-Angel-001: this is the result of two days no sleep and a caffiene overload, please don't kill me for this! -runs around in circles before slamming into 51's engine...Mike: hey, watch the paint!...ooooh-**

**if i'm starting to put my hallucinations to writing, i need to stop drinking coffee for the moment -said even as a sip of it is being taken-**


	20. Chapter 20

**Saving Me**

"_Gomenasai for everything, gomenasai, I know I let you down. Gomenasai till the end, I never needed a friend like I do now_." -t.A.T.u, _'Gomenasai'_

Roy stayed unconcious when they pulled him out o the car, when the ambulance sped to the hospital, and halfway through the exam. When he did come around, he wished he hadn't. There was a pain in his head that was throbbing along with his heartbeat in rapid time. His entire body felt heavy and useless and his eyelids were refusing to open. He tried to move his neck to the side, hoping it would help the pain, but something was preventing the movement. Roy's eyes moved frantically, opening just enough for a little light to peek through. It was enough to make the throbbing morph into sharp stabbing. His eyes closed and Roy groaned.

"Roy? Roy, open your eyes," a familiar voice commanded. "Roy, open your eyes now."

Roy groaned again, this time from effort, and somehow he managed it. A blurry shape was in front of a bright light, and for one minute, Roy thought he was dead. He blinked to clear his vision and bring the shape into focus, but it wasn't working.

"Roy, do you have pain anywhere," that voice asked again.

It took a little while to process the question. "Head," he muttered.

Thee was a firm probbing on his abdomen. "Anywhere else? Like your neck or back?"

He had to focus, get past the pain in his head to take a bodily inventory. It was hard because it made the head injury worse and harder to concentrate. It was a painful circle Roy wanted to escape from.

"Roy," he was prompted.

"Uh...m'should'r. Dun know wha...head h'rts." Even to Roy, his words sounded garbled and unintelligable. Was he drunk? God, he hadn't been drinking had he? But the blurry shape moved out of his hazy vision, causing the light to pierce his skull again and Roy scrunched his eyes shut. Cold flooded through the crook of his arm and spread through his body. It didn't take the pain away or loosen it, but it made him shiver a little.

"Kids," he mumbled, unable to do more.

"They're gonna be okay. Morton and Early are checking them out. We're going to get..."

The rest of the words, along with everything else, faded away.

Something was beeping. Roy reached over to shut off the alarm clock and frowned when something tugged on his hand. His eyes were still shut and he didn't much want to open them so he fell back into the dark, alarm clock forgotten.

The next thing he heard was a low humming, but not quite. His head cleared a little more and he realized the humming was actually voices. Roy couldn't make out the words and besides wanting to know what was being said, there was something else he had to know, something so important. It was hard to think, though, so it was nearly impossible to recall what was so important. The voices were closer to him and Roy doubled his efforts to open his eyes.

"That's it Roy, open your eyes now," Brackett was saying.

"Roy." That was Karen. He could tell it was them, but something was off. Karen didn't sound right, she sounded...sniffly, kind of scared. Was she hurt? What was wrong with her?

His eyes finally managed to slit open, but it didn't help him see anything. He could feel Karen next to him though, knew when she carefully picked up his hand and squeezed. He squeezed it back and there was a painful flash of another moment similar to that one, one with pain and death involved. Tears pricked his eyes, unbidden, and he tried to reign it all back in. It was okay now, Karen was there with him and her touch was all he needed to get through that pain.

"Sweetheart, it's alright. Are you in pain?"

But, there was that sniffly sound again. Something was wrong, someone had hurt her. He forced his eyes to open more and was rewarded with a spinning ceiling. Roy moaned from the wave of dizziness and nasuea and closed his eyes, took a few breaths, then slowly opened them again. He focused on a point and the room slowed until it just tilted. Not better, exactly but managable.

"Are you in pain, Roy?" Brackett again.

Being careful so he wouldn't end up on the mock up of a carnival ride, Roy turned his head. Karen was sitting next to him, eyes bloodshot and shiny, looking scared and happy and hopeful. Brackett was hovering just beside her, eyebrows knit together in that expression of proffessional concentration and conern that Roy was familiar with. He ignored Brackett for the moment and turned his attention (figurativly speaking) to his bigger concern.

"Kar," he slurred, tounge feeling heavy and fuzzy. Yeah, he was definetely on something. "Y'kay?"

A choked laugh made it's way past her lips and she brushed at her eyes. "I will be. Worry about you right now, you're the one who was hit by a car."

Hit by a car? He frowned. Another painful memory, one associated with the hand squeezing barged it's way in his mind, but like the last one, the pain of memory at finding out his wife had been hit was slowly easing under Karen's gaze and touch. No, something else was tugging at his mind, something related, but what...

Like that moment, it hit him without warning and blinding speed.

_Metal on metal groaned as it smashed together...glass flew from everywhere...Jenny was slumped against the door, a little trickle of blood running from her hairline down her face...Chris was still, listing towards his sister...his left arm was bent at an unnatrual angle..._

The nasuea came back full force and before he knew exactly how it happened, he was rolling to his side and throwing up everything in his stomach.

Right all over Karen.

Exhausted, limbs trembling, head throbbing, and heart sore he allowed himself to be gently pushed onto his back again, unable to do much else. Roy looked at Karen. "S'rry," he said weakly.

Karen quirked a grin at him even as she did that little nose wrinkle he loved so much. "It's alright Roy, don't worry about it. Not the first time something like this has happened," she soothed.

Roy's brow furrowed, panicking again and drawing in deep, short, panting breaths. "Chris 'nd Jenny? They okay? Where 'rethey?"

Brackett leaned in, putting a steadying hand on his shoulder. "Easy, easy. Breath Roy, nice and slow. Just like me."

The doctor picked up one of Roy's hands and put it against his chest, slowing his breaths to an even rhythm. It seemed silly and ridiculous, but feeling the steady rise and fall, hearing and seeing the deliberate inhale and exhale helped Roy focus his own breathing. A few moments later, and Roy wasn't hyperventillating anymore. Brackett kept his hand in place a second longer, nodded to himself, then put Roy's hand back on the bed, leaving fingers on his wrist to take the pulse.

"Chris and Jenny," he said again, stronger.

Karen brushed her thumb over the back of his hand in a soothing gesture. Unfortunatly, Roy didn't want to be soothed. He wanted to know about his kids, and was perfectly willing to get up and walk through the hospital to find out about them, indecent hospital gown and all flapping in the wind. He tried to raise himself up, but didn't get too far before he was collapsing back down onto the bed, much to his head's chargin.

Perfectly willing apparently didn't mean perfectly able, Roy grimaced.

"Stay still Roy, you've got a pretty bad concussion," Karen told him, a little scolding.

"Figured," he muttered then said louder, "Chris and Jenny, or else I'll discharge AMA."

Roy had to appreciate that no one laughed right out loud at him for that statement, seeing as how he could hardly talk convincingly much less walk out on his own.

"They're okay. Chris broke his arm in two places, got a cast, and has a small hairline fracture in his skull. Both are painful, and we're watching the swelling in his brain, but there's no reason for him not to recover fully," Brackett told him.

"Jenny?"

"A nice gash on her head, took about six stitches to sew it up but that's the worst of it. A little bruised, a little cut up, and plenty scared but she's doing better than the two of you," smiled the doctor.

Roy searched his face, then Karen's, to see if either of them were holding something back, sugar coating the truth. It wasn't the case for either of them and Roy relaxed a little. The fear in his gut wasn't gone completely, not yet.

"How long?" He was getting tired, his eyelids drooping.

"Early morning the day after the accident," filled in Karen. Roy considered that.

"Can I see 'em?" It was getting harder to get his eyes open after they closed.

"Give it a couple more hours, then we'll see," plactated Kel, smiling knowingly.

Roy turned his tired gaze over to Karen, smiling at him and looking dewy eyed.

"Kar? Ya kinda smell," he mumbled, drifting off to sleep.

Roy heard an indignant snort and her reply of, "Well, I can't imagine why..." and then he was gone.

Fortunatly for everyone, the next time Roy woke up he was much more coherent and his head wasn't trying to split open. When his eyes opened with no trouble and the room wasn't trying to impersinate a merry-go-round, he figured he was on the way to recovery. There was someone standing at the window, a familiar sillouet that made Roy second guess his self diagnosis.

"Johnny," he asked.

John spun around from the window and smiled a little. He moved closer to the bed so Roy wouldn't have to strain so much to see from his flatback position on the bed. John shuffled nervously and ducked his head, peeking at Roy through his bangs. A long silence filled the room, broken occassionally by the sound of throat clearing.

"So," Johnny drew out.

"So," Roy replied amiably, settling back against his pillows with a wince.

In a flash, Johnny was there and bombarding him with questions. Was he in pain? Was he feeling alright? Did he need water? Did Johnny need to get someone? While basically mother henning Roy, Johnny was straightening anything he could get his hands on, checking Roy's IV line, the little square of bandage on his forehead.

"Johnny..._Johnny_!" Just as quickly as it started, it all stopped. Johnny moved back, flushed with embaressment and looking a little down. He shuffled again.

"Sorry. Sorry, I didn't mean...uh...you want me to go?"

Almost afraid the younger man would, Roy reached out and snagged Johnny's wrist to keep him in place, eyebrows furrowed. "What? No I don't want you to go. Have a seat or something."

Maybe it was just Roy, but Johnny looked relieved. "Thanks. Um, I'll just stay standing, if you don't mind."

"Fine, fine." More silence, but not as akward. "How are things at 8's?"

"Oh, uh, it's alright." Johnny shoved his hands into his pockets, pulled them out again to run them through his thick hair, then put them back in his pockets. "Listen, Roy, I'm so, so, so sorry about everything."

Roy raised an eyebrow but otherwise didn't react.

"For the drugs, the cold shoulder, the silent treatment, hitting you, everything. I'm really sorry, and I wanted you to be the first to know that I'm checking myself into rehab as soon as possible."

Johnny had done a lot of thinking since he'd responded to the car accident the other day. He knew that if he kept going the way he was, the consequences could be dire; maybe he'd be the one behind the wheel next time, and maybe that time, he just might end up killing someone. He had a lot of reasons for taking the pills, half of them pitiful exscuses and the other half ideas that seemed pretty stupid now, and he didn't know exactly why it got so far or how, or what it really was again that made him start to begin with. Johnny had plenty of excuses, reasons, ideas, halftruths, halflies, and hidden truths that he used to take the stuff, but he had only one reason to stop.

He didn't want to hurt anyone, or more importantly, kill anyone.

Roy was staring at Johnny, gauging and wondering. Johnny seemed a bit more like himself, but Roy knew from experience that when a person was sober, it was easy to seem like yourself. His friend seemed very sincere about his apology, and his conviction to go to rehab, but was his reason enough to get him through the pain of detox, the counseling? Would it be enough later to keep him clean? Roy wanted to believe it, had to believe it because the alternative meant loosing his best friend for good.

"Roy?" Johnny was looking at him with concern and worry, waiting for his answer and more importantly his acceptance.

"Apology accepted," Roy said simply, as if that was all he'd been waiting for all this time.

"That's it. That's all you have to say," John asked, now with disbelief.

Roy shook his head. "Johnny, I have plenty to say to you about this; most of it you aren't ready to hear." He lifted a hand to forestall the argument he could see John beginning to make. "You aren't. It's all mostly hard truths"

Johnny started pacing, not with nervous energy or because he was thinking too hard, but because his anger needed some kind of venting. "Remember when you told me that we were parnters? Like, equal partners, and that was the reason you didn't call me junior anymore?"

It took Roy a minute but he did recall that conversation. "Yeah," he said warily.

Johnny stopped and stood close to Roy's bed, hands on his hips and looking down at Roy with a glare mixed with sadness and hurt. "Were you lying?"

"No!"

"Then why are you still treating me like a rookie?" The anger was gone, leaving only the sadness and hurt.

Roy blinked. Was that what he was doing? Treating Johnny like a wet nosed rookie who didn't have any sort of sense? Had he been doing that the entire time? Thinking back and looking hard at the events leading up to this moment, Roy realized that yeah, maybe he had to a degree. Treating John with kid gloves hadn't helped then and it wasn't helping now.

"I'm sorry, Johnny," he said sincerly. "I didn't realize that was how it looked to you, and that that's how it was. There were good intentions behind it, but that's no excuse. I really and truely am sorry."

Johnny studied him a moment, then nodded slowly. "That's alright. Now, you wanna tell me these hard truths, if you think I can take it."

The older man glanced up sharply, but Johnny was grinning. Roy relaxed and took the barb as the olive branch it was.

"You really aren't gonna like it," he warned.

"Roy," Johnny did some warning of his own.

"Okay, okay." Roy settled back again. "John, I know you well enough that you had to have a pretty strong reason to start taking pills. And I know that somewhere along the way, you maybe forgot the why of it. I also know that you've got a pretty strong reason to stop taking the pills too." Roy took a breath and let it out slow, to help ease his headache and give himself some time to think about his words.

"It's always easy enough to start, to deal with it in the worst way rather than deal at all. Once you start, it's even easier to keep going. The hard part is stopping. Whatever good intentions you had, whatever reasons you gave yourself when you started, suddenly they seem to fly out the window when you're throwing your guts up and whimpering from the detox. Nothing matters at that point except that your hurt, you don't want to, and you're willing to do whatever you have to to stop.

"When you're not thinking much because of the pain, you don't remember why you quit, just that you did and maybe it was the stupidest thing you ever did. If you don't have a damn good reason to stop, to keep from quitting rehab, to keep you from starting again when you are clean, then it won't matter. None of it. You'll just be in this cycle of stop, go, stop, go and it'll end up killing you, either the detox or the overdose."

Roy stopped to let Johnny absorb that for a minute and then he leaned forward, piercing blue eyes gazing directly into brown ones and asked, "Johnny, why do you want to quit?"

John's voice was small and timid and totally unlike himself when he answered. "I don't want to kill anyone."

Even as he said it, Johnny wondered if that would be enough.

Roy nodded firmly, completely confident in the answer. While Johnny was willing to put himself into harm's way, a big reason why he was so good at his job, he avoided putting someone else into those situations. A big part of getting help was doing it for yourself, otherwise it just wasn't any good. In Johnny's case, by helping others he helped himself. Going to rehab to get clean so he wouldn't hurt or (God forbid) kill someone meant that Johnny would realize while there that he was also doing it for himself. With the strong motivator of keeping people safe from himself, Johnny could get clean and stay clean with the right help. Roy knew that, and now he had to reassure Johnny of that too.

"I said that you've got a pretty strong reason to stop, but I was wrong." Before Johnny could panic too much, Roy smiled genuienly. "You've got one hell of a reason to get clean."

Johnny watched him a minute, then slowly smiled back.

Things weren't fixed. Things weren't totally better. Things defienetly weren't ever going to be the same. But from where they were, it was better, just a bit. And now that they'd taken the step in the right direction, neither of them doubted they would eventually get there all the way.

**Black-Angel-001: wow, not bad huh? yeah, kinda left off on the protective daddy roy thing there, but he and johnny needed this! besides, there'll be plenty in the next chapter for ya. also some more johnny getting better in the future (like i can do anything else now without getting lynched) ps: thanks for the kind concerns from the last chapter y'all. appreciate it, and yup, doing better. no rampart and no more scratching the paint on mike's engine lol _mike: damn straight._**


	21. Chapter 21

**Saving Me**

**Black-Angel-001: there may only be a few more chapters after this, so that means we're coming to the end! i promise, you will find out who killed joanne; i haven't forgoten. anywho, an equally long awaited moment in this story...**

**Saving Me**

"_Well I don't wanna live a lie, too many sleepless night...I'm walking away from the troubles in my life, I'm walking away oh to find a better day. I'm walking away._" -Craig David, _'Walking Away'_

He felt like he was dieing.

Johnny heaved over the toilet again as another wave of nasuea overtook him. He hacked and coughed up water and bile for a good five minutes before collapsing back against the bathroom wall. The nurse that had been hovering nearby in the doorway stepped in, flushed away the smell, and helped a shaky Johnny take a few sips of water. She rubbed his shoulder when another fine tremor ran thorugh him, rattling his teeth.

"Come on Johnny, lets get you to bed," Ariel said softly in deference to his pounding head.

Johnny shook his head and closed his eyes, sinking farther back into the wall. "I'm good right here."

"I'm sure, but the bed is still more comfortable."

With a grumbled groan, he helped Ariel help him up; they staggered drunkenly to the bed and Johnny promptly fell heavily into it. Ariel pulled the blankets over him, put a paper bag lined garbage can near the head of the bed, and got Johnny to drink a bit more water before settling herself into a nearby chair.

Exhausted from throwing up, chills, aches, pains and the general art of moving, Johnny let his eyes close, falling into a feverish sleep. Ariel glanced up at Johnny over the edge of her book occassionally, making sure he wasn't having another nightmare.

A week and a half ago, John Gage had checked himself into the rehab center with the whole hearted intention of getting his life together. He'd met with a counseler like all patients did, discussed his addiction, his reason for getting clean, and his treatmet plan, which would be supervised by a liscened physican and counseler. It was Ariel's job as Johnny nurse to give him anti-nasuea medication and baby asprin, neither of which was helping him much. But the worst of it was almost behind him, and then he could get to the part of his treatment that would help him stay clean. He'd follow the same step program AA used, get group and individual counseling sessions, and even speak and interact with other patients in the break room. It really helped the healing process to find others outside the group therapy that could understand and relate.

Johnny twisted, whimpered, and Ariel shot up out of her chair to kneel by the bed, shaking his shoulder gently and calling out to him. He woke with a start, wide and scared eyes latching onto hers immediatly. Ariel brushed back his sweat soaked bangs, felt his forehead. Much cooler-the fever was breaking. Ariel smiled and asked, as she usually did after one of his nightmares, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Instead of the usual automatic "No", Johnny considered it before carefully shanking his head. She didn't press him or encourage him to change his mind but accepted his decision. Instead, she helped him sit up to drink some more, stroked his hair lightly, and softly talked until he was aleep again.

Johnny woke up naturally after nearly ten hours of sleep. He could vaugly recall swallowing water and pills, and a woman's voice during that time, but that was it. He remembered before the restful, nightmare free sleep, but just only. His body hurt, but more in the way like he was getting over the flu. His mouth tasted and felt like a week old road kill and he grimaced. His eyes were gritty and he defienetly needed to shave.

"Johnny?"

He looked up at the nurse sitting on the bed near him. She smiled.

"How do you feel, any nausea?"

"None of that, but I feel like I got slammed into the side of a building," his voice scratched out.

He drank some more water-and wasn't he just about tired of the stuff-and looked down at himself. The pajama's were rumpled and he kind of smelled. Johnny tried to grin charmingly but it wasn't up to par with his normal one.

"I uh, don't suppose I can get a shower, can I?"

Ariel shook her head and started for the door. "Not until the doctor sees you, I'm afraid."

"But I'll probably scare 'im away as ripe as I am," complained Johnny.

"Trust me, I don't think he'll care all that much." She stuck her head out the door, spoke for a few minutes to someone then she took Johnny's vitals and when she was finished, began to straighten the room while imploring Johnny to drink more water, which he griped about.

Five minutes had gone by since Ariel had called for a doctor (at least Johnny guessed she had) before there was a knock on teh door and an older gentleman in a white lab coat came in. He was a few years older than Brackett, but he didn't have the same sever air as the Rampart doctor. He stepped up to Johnny's bed and shook his hand.

"Hi, I'm Dr. Lloyd Brown. I'll be you physician the rest of your stay."

Johnny nodded and sat patiently through all the poking, prodding and questioning. They talked about what he should and shouldn't eat, what exercises he could do, what signs he had to pay attention to from his body. Dr. Brown's manner was friendly without being overbearing and Johnny took an instant like to him.

Finally, Brown cleared Johnny physically, left a few more instructions, set another time to see Johnny, and left. Ariel helped John get to the bathroom so he could shower and helped him again to get to the chair in the room when he was showered, dried, and dressed. Johnny wanted to shave and brush his teeth, but had to settle for just brushing when it sank in how shaky he was. Feeling more like a human again, Johnny was a little surprised to find himself tired out. Ariel offered a change of scenery in the form of the break room, which he jumped all over, although he balked at the wheelchair on general principle. It didn't matter at any rate though, since Ariel got her way and griped good naturedly back at him.

The sofa in the break room was plush and comfortable, and Johnny easily fell asleep in it. Hardly a minute later, although it was no more than a hour, Johnny was woken for dinner and sent back to his room. Still exhausted he didn't mind so much and fell asleep for the night.

Getting the drugs out of his system may have been over, but the withdrawl wasn't. Johnny became moody, switching from irritable to weepy like a pregnant woman. He sometimes used the moods to try to get drugs, but it never worked; it only got him angry. He lashed out once and only once. When he came to himself, he was mortified and never did it again. During therapy sessions, he shouted and yelled sometimes like a child in a tantrum. Privelages like break room were taken away. Eventually, his body adjusted and his mind began to accept it, but not without another fever raging through him.

Once Johnny was able to get a handle on his cravings and emotions, things went a bit smoother. Group therapy helped him realize he was alone in his problems, that there were others struggling just like he was and that offered more comfort than he could have thought. The individual therapy was harder, because it got more personal and delved into things Johnny didn't want to talk about quite yet. The therapist couldn't get Johnny to say more about why he started taking pills, just knew that it had something to do with his job and best friend. It was worrying because if Johnny didn't deal with the why of his addiction, he could fall back into his old habits wether he meant to or not. But Johnny wouldn't talk to the therapist about it, besides adding just a few more details, like how another fireman had nearly killed his best friend and then Johnny, he wouldn't talk to another patient about, and he wouldn't talk to Ariel about it. Something had to be done about the problem, and after a few more group and individual sessions, Johnny's therapist came up with a solution.

Johnny talked alot about his friend Roy (last names of friends and family weren't allowed) and it was clear that the younger man thought highly of the man, and valued his opinion and advice. It was from that that Dr. Sydney Barker, John's personal therapist, got the idea that Johnny would open up for Roy if no one else. Dr. Barker came to the conclusion about his patient that Johnny was a pretty private person and didn't put his trust in anyone easily or lightly. If they were going to deal with the real issues, it would have to be someone Johnny trusted without question. The method was a little irregular, but Dr. Barker was convinced it would work, maybe not right away, but it would work. He told Johnny about the idea and was a little surprised when Johnny balked at it completely and totally. Barker explained that even if John wouldn't talk to him about the problem, he had to talk to someone and why not his best friend? But if John really didn't want to do it, that was fine, but Barker wouldn't clear him until they got to the heart of the matter which could mean more than just the six weeks. Johnny agreed, somewhat grudgingly.

Roy came to the rehab center two days after that meeting between Barker and Johnny, fully aware of the situation and what his role was. Truthfully, he was happy that Johnny was willing to confide in him and secretly pleased that Johnny it was him the young man could confide it. Dr. Barker let them walk around the grounds, knowing how sometimes Johnny needed the movement to settle his restlessness while talking about certain things. The day was beautiful and slightly warm for October, but it neither of them took too much notice about it. They talked about what was going on at home, keeping things light and Roy knew Johnny had to work up his nerve. It always amazed him how John could go into a burning building without second thought or flinching, but had to gather his courage to do other things, like this.

Finally, Roy asked. "Johnny, why did you start taking the pills?"

It took Johnny a minute to answer. He'd figured it out in his head how it had started and when and looking back it seemed so stupid. "I had nightmares."

"What?"

"Remember that fire where I hurt my ankle?" Roy nodded and they both shied away from the rememberance that one firefighter hadn't made it home. "I was prescribed some painkillers and took one when I got home. I'd been having nightmares for a while but that night I didn't. Later, after I stopped taking them I had nightmares again and started again, so I could sleep better. That's really the only reason why I got started, so I could sleep."

Roy let that sink in. "What were the nightmares about?"

His brain froze and his mouth shut. He remembered thinking about talking to Roy about them, the fear that maybe he would be rejected and laughed at for not being able to deal with them. But when he looked over at Roy beside him, all he saw was honest concern and a willingness to help however he could. It seemed stupid to think that Roy would tell him he was being a baby about the nightmares when faced with that, so Johnny took a breath and charged ahead.

"Um, mostly about Campbell."

"What about him?"

"When he choked me, that's what the nightmares are mostly. Or about patients we lost. Sometimes they mix together and the patients are the ones choking me and Campbell's watching and laughing." Johnny shuddered just thinking about it. Even though he'd already decided Roy wouldn't turn away from him about the nightmares, he waited for the scorn.

Roy walked silently beside him for a few seconds, then a few minutes, and Johnny feared that maybe he'd been wrong. He was about to apologize and go back to his room when Roy stopped in front of a large dogwood tree and stared up at it.

"Why didn't you tell me about them when they started?"

"You had enough to deal with, with the kids and Joanne's murder. Besides, you were handling it okay. I didn't want you to think I couldn't handle the job or a few nightmares."

At that Roy turned to stare at Johnny and from that look Johnny knew without a doubt that he'd been stupid to think like that, then and now. Roy shook his head.

"Johnny, all things considered you handleded it pretty well, epsecially when you had to help me and the kids out. And for the record, I wasn't handling it all the well."

"Huh?"

Roy sighed. "After I got better, I started to have nightmares about falling nearly every night. Then it got me thinking about Vietnam and so I started having nightmares about that again. Put all that on top of you nearly getting killed and I worked myself into anxiety attacks. So no, I wasn't handling it alright."

"You looked like you were," Johnny said in a soft voice.

"That's from a lifetime of having to look like I was okay. Had to do it when I was a kid and my dad died, had to do it to help my brother deal, had to do it in Vietnam, and then in the fire department. When you've got to get others to calm down, you've got to be calm too even if you don't really feel it."

Well, that explained alot about Roy. His friend went on. "You should tell the doctor about this, Johnny."

Johnny made a face and grimaced. "Yeah, but-"

"'But' nothing. It can only help you in the end, especially if you've got PTSD." Johnny's symptoms, now that he was seeing them (and didn't he feel like crap for missing it), consisted with the symptoms of PTSD.

"What?" He'd heard of that, but didn't know much about it. "But, I wasn't in a war or anything."

Roy shook his head. "You don't have to be in a war to get it, even if it is more common. You can get it through emotional and physical trauma and I'd say you had plenty of both."

Johnny thought about that. "Did you have PTSD?"

Roy glanced at him through the corner of his eyes. "No, they called mine acute stress disorder, which is different from post traumatic stress disorder."

"Oh."

When Roy took another glance, he saw the slumped shoulders and sighed. He didn't like to talk about these things too much, and maybe that's what got them in this mess to begin with. "My partner from Vietnam, Alan Coleman, he did." Johnny looked up and over at him, eyes a little wide and Roy had to swallow to continue. "We trained together and went straight to the same unit together. When we went home about two years after we got there and stayed in touch. I got a call from the VA saying Alan had been admitted after he had a violent flashback at a fair." Amid the memories of Nam, what he could remember when he got home, the day of the call and the days after, Roy remembered the days he and Johnny, and even himself and another paramedic, treated veterans in the same situation Alan had been in.

"Did he get better?"

"Eventually. He still gets flashbacks and panic attacks sometimes with certain triggers, but it's not like it was before, after he talked about it and gotten help." He gave Johnny a meaningful look. "That's the only way to get better, Johnny."

The next day, Johnny asked to see Dr. Barker and once they were both settled in their seat, Johnny breathed deeply, looked him in the eye.

"I was having nightmares..."

**Black-Angel-001: i'm gonna let it trail off there and let your imagination take it from there :)**


	22. Chapter 22

**Saving Me**

**Black-Angel-001: drumroll please! (movie announcer) It's here, the moment you've all been waiting for...the moment that will blow...your...mind...(regular) okay, whatever. anyway, this is a big deal, because you've been waiting for this from the word 'go' in 'Acts of Desperate Me' and now here it is! this has got to be my fastes update yet for this story...**

**Saving Me**

_"Carry on my wayward son, there'll be peace when you are done. Lay your weary head to rest, don't you cry no more."_ -Kansas, _'Carry on My Wayward Son'_

Adam Burnes pulled the phone away from his ear to stare at it for a second, then put it back. "I'm sorry, repeat that please?"

"I said, we've got a suspect based on the lead you gave us."

Yeah, he'd heard it right.

"Okay. Okay, great." Adam grinned at Todd, who had his head tilted in a 'what?' manner. "You mind sending him our way?"

"Not at all," the cop on the other end agreed amiably.

They talked a little bit more before hanging up and Adam's grin kept getting wider and wider until it was a smile. Todd's eyes got almost as wide when he realized just what that call might have been.

"You mean...?"

"Yeah, they have a suspect; once they get him extradited to over here, we'll handle the questioning and charging and stuff."

It took about a week and a half to get the suspect to Los Angelas, mostly it was a paperwork holdup, but get there he did. Burnes and Barton were waiting on him, and once the transfer was complete with all the I's dotted and the T's crossed, they put him in cuffs, told him what he was charged with, and lead him to an interrigation room.

Keith Mellor was quiet and nervous, always glancing around like a caged rabbit ready to bolt. He never tried to make that move, wether because of fear or knowing better neither detective knew. He refused a lawyer and surprised them both with the adament plea that he wanted to confess.

"You had almost a year to come clean," growled Barton, leaning over the table with both palms flat on the surface. "You had every opportunity before, but now that you've been caught you wanna confess?"

Keith shrank back in his seat, looking more scared than nervous. Eyes downcast, he mumbled something.

"What's that? I couldn't hear you," Burnes said coldly. They could have treated Mellor a bit more nicely, but after months of absolutely nothing, then his cry for a confession, Barton figured a bit of the cold shoulder was entitled.

Keith kept his eyes on the table in front of him. "I said, I'm sorry."

"You gonna say that to the woman's husband and kids when you see them in court? You think it'll make their pain, suffering, and hurt any better?"

"I'm sorry," the kid said again, close to tears. They weren't moved by that.

"Saying it twice doesn't make it so," Burnes said. He moved away from the wall he'd been leaning against and pushed a pad of paper and a pen towards Mellor. "First you're gonna tell us what happened, then you're gonna write it and sign it."

Keith nodded and started his tale. When the signed confession was in hand, they let a corpral take him to the cell and called the D.A. about the case. Sam Winchester was sent over, and once he reviewed the confession and the recording of the interrigation, he said it was all pretty cut and dry, no problem getting a good sentance, then he went to start the legal proceedings.

It was all kind of surreal. Months since the initial murder, everything was rolling smoothly, like clockwork. It was almost as if it hadn't taken hours of little sleep and bad leads to catch the guy, and in a way the easiness of the arrest made Adam and Todd mad, just a little.

But all that melted away when Adam called Roy DeSoto and asked him to the precinct. He didn't want to wait on telling DeSoto any longer than he had to, and at the moment there was absolutely no reason not to tell him.

Roy knew there was something good going on when he saw the smiles on Burnes and Barton's faces as he approached the desk. They were a bit more cheerful, their eyes were a bit lighter, and the shadows of long and late nights were less pronounced. Once he was seated, he waited for what they had to tell him.

"We've made an arrest in your wife's case."

Roy blinked and sat back. He blinked again and looked back and forth between the two. "What?"

"We've arrested the man who hit and killed your wife," Burnes repeated, grinning.

Roy had no idea what to think, or how to react. He knew he should do something, say something, but he'd never thought this would actually happen; he'd always figured that he would never know who had taken Joanne and had started to accept that. Now that an arrest had been made, Roy was at a loss.

"Did he say anything," he managed to get out, voice quiet and emotionless.

The detectives glanced at each other, a little worried about DeSoto's reaction. They could understand it, had seen it before many times.

"We got a full confession from him," informed Barton.

"Then why..." Roy let it trail off. The big question, the one thing he had to know if nothing else.

Barton sighed. "He said he was running late to get somewhere, wasn't paying attention, and before he knew it, he'd hit her."

Wait. Roy finally felt some emotion start to grow in his gut, but it wasn't happiness or sadness. It was cold anger. "You mean he killed my wife because he wasn't paying attention? Because he was careless?"

Barton nodded and the anger flared in intensity. Joanne had gone through hours of pain, had died, because some _asshole _was late and not paying attention. In all the imaginings Roy'd had, that had never crossed his mind. He'd thought maybe it was a drunk, someone who recognized Joanne as his wife and decided to get back at him for something. But, to know that she'd been hit because of that...

Roy wanted to hit something.

"Why the hell didn't he stop? Why didn't he take responsibilty for what he'd done? Why'd he run?"

"He said he was scared. He didn't like to leave her there, but he was too afraid of what would happen to him."

It didn't seem possible for the anger to grow any more, but it did. "Can you tell me who it was?"

There was some hesitation, then Burnes said quietly, "Keith Mellor."

For a minute, the anger faded to be replaced by shock. Keith Mellor? He knew that name. When he'd been hurt, Mellor had been Johnny's partner until he'd disappeared. The shock quickly became anger again, burning like a four alarm fire.

"Mellor? The paramedic who...what the hell?"

Roy's tone was disinterested, almost bored. His face was wiped clean of any emotion, except his eyes. Burnes had his head down, so he couldn't see that Roy was one step away from loosing it and said, "Apparently, he was going to work at the time of the accident and as he'd just started at the station, he-"

"He was already a firefighter?" Roy hadn't known that, he'd just thought the kid was a rookie or something. He was a firefighter? An experienced firefighter?

"Yeah, for about five years." Barton had been subtly trying to shut his partner up, but since it wasn't working he dropped subtle.

"Burnes, shut up," he said while keeping his eyes on DeSoto.

The man was pale and shaking, lips in a thin line, his face still impassive. Without a word to either man, Roy stood and walked with deliberate and controlled movements out the door. Barton had seen that expression and body language before from military specials; it was the look of a man who'd reached the end of the rope on his control and was barely hanging onto it with fingernails and teeth. Even after all the years since his military service, Barton still shuddered at the sight. He felt sorry for anyone who had the unfortunate luck to cross Roy DeSoto's path.

Roy was seeing red. His focus and attention had been narrowing to one little point since he'd left the station, and only sheer will had helped him drive home. Once there, he went to his room, changed into something that would be perfect for getting dirty, and told the kids he was going to the workshop for a few hours, and to not bother him. He didn't see the slightly worried looks that trailed after him.

In the workshop, Roy started to cut and sanded wood with no real plan in mind on what to do with the pieces. He was still thinking about the trip to the station, the revelation of what had happened the day his wife had been killed.

A _fucking _firefighter who _fucking _knew better, he thought with a growl as he used a hacksaw on some pine. He _fucking _worked at 51 while I was down, worked with my friends, and never said a _fucking _word!

Suddenly the workshop was too small, the cutting not helping his pent up anger and Roy wanted out. He shut off the machinery, closed and locked the door forcefully, and went back through the house. He may have told the kids he was going somewhere, but he wasn't sure. All he knew was he was driving without really knowing where he was going. When he blinked, he was sitting outside a bar.

There were a thousand and one reasons not to go in, there were even more reasons why it was a bad idea. Right then though, Roy couldn't think of a single one. He could hardly think past what he'd been told, and without really realizing it, he was out of the car and stepping through the doorway.

Chris and Jenny had never been afraid of their father. He was firm and only spanked as a last resort. He hardly ever yelled, and never let things get out of hand.

But when their father had come home, they'd gotten scared. He barely looked at them, and there was a set to his jaw that said he was about to explode. Neither of them knew why he was so angry, but they figured maybe he would work it out in the shop like he had hundreds of times before. When their dad had come through the living room again, it was pretty obvious that he hadn't, and with barely a mutter of something they hadn't catched, he was out the door again and the car was gone.

Two hours later, he hadn't come home and they were starting to go from scared to terrified. Never had their father left without telling them where he was going, and never with such a stormy expression. By late afternoon, Chris decided to call someone.

His first call was to Karen, who told him to sit tight, keep an eye on his sister, and that she would be there as soon as she could get away. The second call was to Johnny, who'd gotten out of rehab almost a month ago. Chris knew what rehab was (he was twelve, not stupid) and wondered if maybe it would be a bad idea, but years of calling Johnny when they needed help was too ingrained in him not too. His response was less calm than Karen's, full of light and muttered swear words, and the promise that he would look for their dad.

Less than forty minutes after calling Karen, she was knocking and then walking through the door, still wearing her hospital uniform. Chris was a little sorry about that, hoped she wasn't in trouble, but the fear for his dad and what may have happened prevented him from being too worried about it. He told her that Johnny was out looking, and the three of them sat cuddled together on the couch waiting.

Johnny had no idea where to look.

Roy had never just up and left before, so it made all the possibilities of where he was limited to pretty much all of Los Angelas. He thought back to the conversation he'd had with Chris on the phone, and ran everything through his head. Roy had gotten a call from one of the detectives, had gone to the station. An hour later, he'd come home looking angrier than sin and then had just left. The trip to the precinct was the clue, Johnny was sure of it. There were three possiblities as to what may have happened there, and as Johnny was thinking about them he happened to glance at a bar he was passing. He slammed on the breaks and quickly turned into the parking lot, staring at Roy's new car.

No way.

Roy wouldn't...

He's been sober for...

_The hell?_

Johnny vicously put the truck into park, killed the engine and was out of the vehicle and in the bar faster than you could say 'Mother may I?'

The smell of mixed cigarette smoke and cheap beer assaulted Johnny first, then the sound of rock. The lights were dim and there were very few people in there considering the time of day; most were smoking and playing pool. Roy was the only one at the bar and Johnny headed straight for him.

He'd seen Roy angry plenty of times, been on the recieving end of it at least once. But Johnny had never seen Roy this angry, with stiff shoulders and a tapping knee that just screamed tension and energy. In front of him was a solitary bottle of beer that he was glaring at like it was the one who'd pissed him off. Before he made it all the way to Roy, John called the bartender over.

"How many drinks has he had," he asked, dreading the answer.

"None, that's still his first one." The tender looked back at Roy, then back at Johnny. "I've seen plenty of people come in here in similar positions like him, but he's the first one I've seen fight with himself so hard about having that beer."

Johnny sighed in relief and smiled. Roy's stubborn attitude was apparently keeping him from doing something stupid, even though it was pissing him off even more. With a nod of thanks, John went and sat by Roy, staring at him.

A few minutes of silence passed, Johnny still staring at Roy and Roy still trying to glare the bottle to death.

"What," he finally snapped.

"Nothin', just wondering why you're here is all," John said easily. Getting angry himself wouldn't help.

"I freaking felt like it," came the growled response. His hand reached out and gripped the bottle, but that was about all the movement he made in that regard. With a frustrated and angry curse he let go and started to thrum his fingers.

"Why don't we get out of here, this smoke is starting to give me a headache," suggested Johnny. Roy didn't spare him a glance and stood quickly, footsteps thundering as he went out the door.

The bartend shook his head when Johnny made a move to pull out his wallet to pay for the beer. With a grin he said, "I figure if he kept himself from falling back into that hole _that _hard, then I don't mind paying for it myself."

John nodded and went outside, half afraid that Roy had left. Roy was pacing the parking lot with clipped strides, going a certain distance then doing a perfect military about face and repeating. Johnny was getting dizzy just watching.

"Roy, come on. Let's get you home ok?" Roy stopped and looked at Johnny, nodded sharply and made to go for his car. Johnny reached to stop him, thought better of it, and moved to corral him to the truck.

"Nope, not driving the way you are. I'll drive you home, and help you get the car later." He hoped the owner of the place wouldn't mind.

His friend didn't say anything, just climbed into the passenger seat and stared straight out the windshield, the only indication of just how angry he was the tick in his cheek. John got in and headed toward the DeSoto house.

Maybe it was just John, but it seemed the closer they got to his house, the more angry and tense Roy became, like the idea of four walls around him was suffocating. So when they reached the house, Johnny kept driving. Roy didn't glance at him, didn't question, didn't say a word. It made Johnny's worry go up.

They kept driving until they were well out of L.A. and going through a wooded area. As they passed trees, Johnny got an idea. Roy was wicked angry, needed a way to work it out.

Why not chop down trees?

The idea firmly in place, John pulled over, motioned for Roy to get out, then went around to the back. Roy followed him, still angry but also curious. His eyebrows sunk low when John pulled out an ax and started walking, obviously expecting Roy to follow, which he did. They went deep into the woods, Johnny studying the area and Roy studying Johny. When they reached an area John was satisfied with, he stopped, turned, and held the ax out to Roy. The older man took it, and raised confused eyes to John.

"Chop, however long you need to until the anger's worked out of your system to a managable degree." Then John went off to sit on a fallen tree nearby and wait, watching expectantly.

Roy looked at John, at the ax, then at the trees. It seemed like a stupid idea, and wasn't too sure it would work. He looked at the ax again. He shrugged. What the hell, might make him too tired to think if nothing else.

Roy picked out a small tree, positioned the ax, then swung. It wasn't a hard swing, nor was it powerful by any means. He heard John scoff.

"Come on, really put your all into it!"

Roy swung again, then again, each blow becoming more furious and stronger until the tree cracked, then fell. Without pausing to catch his breath, Roy headed to another and started again.

He thought about when the detectives came to the station and told him Joanne had been hit, thought about that moment when Early told him Joanne was gone. He thought about the tears from his kids, the well wishes and support of his friends, and suddenly, Roy went from wicked pissed to flamming pissed.

He was always so busy taking care of others, he hadn't been able to mourn and grieve for himself. Roy was forever making sure everyone else floated above surface and let himself sink a little more each time. He didn't resent doing it, didn't regret it. But now it had all come to a head, everything of his own that he'd pent up and buried so everyone else could get through and deal. He'd never had much of a chance to mourn and miss his father, because he was so busy taking care of his mom and kid brother. A tree went down for that. He'd never had much of a chance to really deal with what he'd seen and heard in Vietnam, because he was so busy trying to put people back together, literally. Another tree went down. He'd never had much of a chance to really work through the pain and anger Joanne's betrayl had caused, because it was all piled up ontop of and associated with Vietnam. Two trees fell. He'd never had much of a chance to deal with Joanne's death, because he had to keep his kids together and pay the bills and keep the house. Some more trees crashed to the ground. He'd been trying to deal with new romantic feelings for Karen, the fact that maybe Joanne's murderer would never be caught, and then Johnny's problems had hit. He was still trying to figure and work through that and then the man who killed Joanne had been arrested, and Roy found out that a firefighter had done it, one who'd taken his spot at 51.

All his pent up and buried emotions had come to a head and burst. Roy kept chopping down trees until there were blisters on his hands, blood on the ax handle and slowly running down his arm, and his breath was coming in heavy wheezing pants. He still kept going.

Finally, exhaustion forced him to stop and Roy dropped the ax, leaning over at the waist and trying to catch his breath. John silently came up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder.

A diffrent kind of dam burst. Roy let go of the handle completely and went to his knees on the cold hard ground and started sobbing. He wasn't crying, he was sobbing like the world was ending and he had nothing left, nothing more. His breath became ragged again, but Roy couldn't help it anymore than he could help the tears streaming down his face. He screamed once, a horrible sound that had all his emotions and feelings rolled into one. Before the sound had stopped echoing off the trees, Roy was sobbing again, harder. In a detached sort of way, he felt Johnny kneel next to him and just keep his hand on his shoulder. Even when Roy had no more tears, he didn't stop. Slowly, the gasping and choking sounds stopped and Roy was left gasping for air and sniffing, feeling only exhaustion everywhere.

The two sat side by side for a while, waiting for Roy to catch his breath. When Roy started to try to pull himself together and began to make it look like he was perfectly alright, Johnny's grip tightened.

"No, don't," he said quietly. "You don't have to do that Roy, not now."

Relieved (which he thought was a little odd) that he didn't have to pretend everything was hunky dory, Roy stood shakily, letting Johnny help him. Johnny carried the ax back to the truck, kept one hand wrapped above Roy's elbow to keep him steady. Back at the truck, Johnny leaned the ax against the metal, put Roy in the passenger seat, and turned on the truck and the heater. While the vehicle warmed up, Johnny put the ax back, grimacing at the blood, and pulled out the first aid kit. He cleaned the broken blisters, put antiseptic on them, and wrapped his hands. Roy sat through it quietly, starring with a tired expression. It was the first time Johnny had seen Roy let someone else take care of him, and the realization made him sad. Finished with the first aid, Johnny got in and drove back to Roy's house.

It was dark by the time they pulled up in the driveway. Roy had fallen alseep, but woke up as soon as the engine was off. They both sat there for a minute, then got out. Johnny helped Roy to the door and inside, shook his head at the questions that started to come from Karen and the kids, and got Roy to his room. He took off his shoes, checked the bandages one more time, and pulled the blankets over Roy, who was aleep before his head hit the pillow.

Johnny went to the living room and sat down with a weary sigh, running his hand over his face.

"What happened?"

"Is he okay?"

"Where was he?"

"Why'd it take so long?"

The questions came stumbling one after the other and Johnny held up a hand to stop them. He gave the condensed, glossed version, keeping things simple for the kids. He still didn't know what had been the straw that broke the camel's back, but he knew he'd find out sooner or later. Karen sent the kids to bed after letting them look in on their father, then tucked them in and kept their doors open a crack in case one of them needed her. Then she sat down opposite Johnny and asked for the adult version, with no detail spared.

Johnny didn't.

He told her about the bar, assured her that Roy hadn't taken a drink, told her about the restless anger that just kept building, about the tree chopping, and the breakdown.

Karen sat in silence, thinking about it, and told Johnny that if he wanted something to eat to help himself and that he could stay in the guest room or living room if he was staying the night. Without staying to see what he would do, she went to Roy's room and closed the door.

Johnny stretched out on the couch and continued thinking until he was too tired to stay awake.

**Black-Angel-001: wow, that was something. some of you were wondering about roy's reactions in AODM, and now you know. you know who killed joanne, roy had a break down, and i am really tired from writing this. still more to come though!**


	23. Chapter 23

**Saving Me**

**Black-Angel-001: i hope you guys like this chapter almost as much as the last one. a little longer then this adventure is over...or maybe not?**

**Saving Me**

_"When hopes and dreams are far away and you feel like you can't face the day; let me be the one you call, if you jump I'll break your fal, lift you up and fly away with you into the night. If you need to fall apart, I can mend a broken heart. If you need to crash, then crash and burn you're not alone."_ -Savage Garden, _'Crash and Burn'_

The darkness of night steadily grew into gray, then the lightest of violets, and then pinks. Birds began to chirp the arrival of the new day and the wind blew gently through the trees, lulling those awake back to sleep. Waking up wasn't as tranquil for Roy as it was for the outside world. His climb back to awareness involved gritty eyes that stuck together, a terrible taste in his mouth, and a throbbing pain in his hands. Roy shifted on the bed, and arms tightened around his waist. Finally able to focus properly, Roy became consious of the heat at his back and the warm puff of air on his neck. He lay there for a minute to soak the feeling up before gently turning to face Karen. Ever so slowly her eyelashes fluttered open and Roy smiled gently at her. She smiled back and without a word he pulled her more closely and they held each other.

The door opened quietly, and the concerned faces of Chris and Jenny peeked around the edge. Roy and Karen lifted their heads, shared a look with each other, then pulled the blankets back in invintation. The kids didn't need more than that and bounded into the room and the bed, snuggling in between the adults. Roy put his arm over both of his children and his hand on Karen's waist. Karen imitated his move, and the entire family fell back asleep just like that when the sky turned bright oranges and reds with the sun peeking just above the horizon.

Johnny leaned against the doorway, looking at the little family with a smile. He closed the door as quietly as it had been opened and decided pancakes and eggs wouldn't be a bad idea for breakfast.

An hour later found the sun bright in the sky and the family eating breakfast quietly, comfortably. There was light joking and laughter and no one was ready just yet to talk about yesterday, not wanting to break the calm. But curiosity was always a human trait that couldn't be denied for long.

"Dad, what happened yesterday," asked Chris from beside his father on the couch.

There was a definite tension in the air from the question. Roy ruffled his son's hair affectionetly and left his hand on the top of his head. He pulled the girls closer, leaning his head back and staring at the ceiling for a moment like all the answers were there somewhere.

"When I went to the police station," he started quietly, "the detectives told me that they arrested the man who hit your mom."

There was a sharp intake of breath from Karen, and Johnny leaned forward in his seat. Roy lifted his head and looked from Chris to Jenny.

"That's...that's a good thing though, right?" Chris tilted his head questioningly.

"Yes." Before the question could be asked, Roy went ahead and answered it. "The problem was who it was that did it."

"Who?"

Roy looked at Johnny with tired eyes. "Keith Mellor, he confessed to it."

"What?" John jumped up from his seat, incredolous. "Keith? The guy who...? Holy sh-crap! Man, no wonder you were pissed! I can't believe..." The young man paced a little before flopping back into his seat.

"How do you know this man," Karen asked, gaze moving between Roy and Johnny.

"Mellor took Roy's spot while he was out, way back when. He disappeared after the thing with Campbell at the warehouse," explained Johnny.

Karen's eyes grew wide and moved between Johnny and Roy. She clutched at Roy's hand and squeezed it, knowing that it must have nearly killed him to know that a firefighter and paramedic had killed his wife.

"But," began Jenny in a very confused tone, "if he's on the good side, daddy's side, why did he hurt mom and not help her? That's what he's supposed to do, right? Help people?"

The question of the hour that no one had a good answer to. Mellor himself probably didn't have a good answer, and if he didn't then how was Roy supposed to give one to his kids? They'd spent their entire lives being told that firefighters, paramedics, police officers, doctors, and nurses were there to help people whenever they could, as well as they were able. Yes, they knew that some people in those proffessions sometimes sold people out for their own agenda, but for the most part tried to avoid hurting others. Mellor hadn't deliberatly set out to hurt Joanne, but he'd deliberatly not helped her. What kind of firefighter, or human being, did that?

"We don't know why he didn't help her honey," Roy explained, anger rising in him again that he quickly stomped down. He'd worked it all out last night so there was no place for it now. "If he knows then he isn't sharing it."

"Are you gonna tell the guys," asked Johnny quietly.

None of the members at 51 had particularly liked or disliked Mellor, but they had thought that despite his experience he was more like a rookie. Roy hadn't really thought about the situation beyond the who of it and the anger. He shook his head.

"I don't know yet. I think they should know, but what good will it do? It just might make them feel guilty over something they didn't know."

"You should tell them," Karen said. She'd spent plenty of time with Roy's friends from 51 and knew them about as well as she could, considering she didn't work with them. They were like family, the whole lot of them, and family talked to each other, just like they were doing.

On the other side of Roy, Jenny nodded enthusiastically. "Miss Karen is right, daddy, you should."

"I think so too," chimed in Chris.

Roy knew from Johnny's expression that he agreed with the rest of his family. "I'll think about it, alright? At least on when." It was the only compromise he was willing to make at that point and no one pushed for more, satisfied with that.

In the end, it took Roy nearly three weeks to tell the crew, and if the topic hadn't been so serious he would have laughed at the result. It was during breakfast before starting duties of the day, and Roy was reading the paper like he usually did while Mike and Marco bustled around setting the table and putting the finishing touches on the food (which in Marco's case meant adding some more spices). Chet was on the couch reading something about health food, and Cap had just walked in with his clipboard, presumably going over the duty roster. Roy's new partner, Rober "Bobby" Madison was sitting across the table from Roy fiddling with his pen.

Roy turned the page and said into the usual quiet banter and sounds of a firestation getting prepared for the day. "Keith Mellor was arrested for Joanne's hit and run," as if he were discussing the weather.

The sounds stopped. Even the dog was quiet and looking at him. Roy didn't lower the paper, either not willing to look at his friends or not willing to see their faces.

"Who," Chet asked clearly not remembering the name.

"Keith Mellor," repeated Roy carefully.

He risked a peek over the top of the paper and could see that they were all trying to place the name, knowing that it was someone they should know.

"Mellor? I don't think..."

"Is he talking about 'Whatever-His-Name-Is'," Mike put out there cautiously.

At that Roy had to put the paper down. "Come again?"

But they were ignoring him know and consulting with each other.

"Is that him? The kinda tall guy with the crazy hair that goes everywhere no matter what," asked Marco, stroking his moustache a bit in thought.

"No, no, that's Leon Orcot, remember? He's down at 12's now," corrected Cap.

"Oh, yeah," nodded Marco.

"'Hey-You'? Is that the guy," Mike put out again.

Chet looked around the room with his wide eyes. "I thought it was Kevin?"

"No, you know what," Hank said as he tapped the palm of his hand on the table. "Mellor, the one John said made a kid cry after cracking a bad joke. Remember?"

They shook their heads no and made sounds to that effect. Roy looked around the room at them all. On one hand he was kind of sad that Mellor hadn't made that much of an impression on the crew, at least not in a good way, apparently. Then it kind of sunk in, and everyone turned to Roy and started talking at once.

It was a good while before everyone was calm and quiet, but once it was managed the conversation was a lot smoother and easier. In the end, after reassurance from Roy that they had no reason to feel guilty, they all agreed that it was in the hands of the police and they couldn't do much beyond being there for Roy and his family. The conversation turned to the next firemen get together and training exercise before the klaxons went off for the first run of the shift.

**Black-Angel-001: so there's that hope it was up to snuff with the last one**


	24. Chapter 24

**Saving Me**

**Black-Angel-001: now we are seriously nearing the end. after this is one more chapter and we are done with this particular thread.**

**Saving Me**

_"Where it was dark now there's light. Where there was pain now's there's joy. Where there was weakness I found my strength...Let the rain come down and wash away my tears, let it fill my soul and dry my fears. Let it shatter the walls for a new sun, a new day has come."_ -Celine Dion, _'A New Day'_

Mellor vs California had gone on for two weeks, despite the full confession and plead of guilty. The case didn't get much more attention than any other, which was the norm for the courts. The only ones who really seemed to care were the lawyers, jury, judge, and the family and friends. But that was enough for Sam Winchester to work and plead the state's case as hard as he could, like he did for every trial he attended. The jury debated for three hours, returned with their verdict. Roy held his breath and gripped Karen's hand tightly, and she held on just as tight. On the other side of him, Johnny was sitting so their shoulders were touching in silent support.

"Please read your verdict," the judge told the foreman of the jury.

The man took the paper back from the baliff and cleared his throat before reading loudly. "We the jury of this court of California, in the matter of Mellor vs California, on the charge of vehicular homicide of the first degree, find the defendant guilty as charged."

The judge looked at the young man standing next to his lawyer. "Mr. Mellor, the court has taken into account your confession of guilt; that is the only thing that saved you from the death penalty. However, this does not excuse your leaving the scene and not stepping forward right away, nor does it excuse your shirking of your civil and moral duties, not only as a fireman/paramedic but also as a human and citizen. You will serve forty years to life imprisonment, and will serve 120 hours of community service in a trauma center or hospital that regularly recieves victims of vehicle accidents under the supervision of a registered nurse, an emergency room physician, or an emergency medical technician as provided by the community service program of the hospital or center.* It is so ordered." With that and a bang of the gavil, the sentance was passed and court was adjourned.

Roy could hardly believe it. It was over, finally over, and he wasn't too sure what to do with himself. He'd never thought past the trial and conviction (if it ever made it that far) and was at a total loss. He profusly thanked Adam and Todd, who had a hard time getting the smiles off their faces, and did the same with Sam Winchester. They were all invited to his house for dinner as soon as they all had free time. Roy hugged Karen tight and felt the tears gather. Suddenly the future beyond this moment didn't look too hard or uncertain.

John and Sam shook hands, shared a silent look of communication, and Sam grinned and nodded. The little group of three walked out of the California court room to a pleasent sunny day, and an even better future.

Roy was determined to get his way. It was an early Saturday morning, one week after the trial, and he had a plan for the day. But first, he had to get his kids up. That was easier said than done, but somehow it happened. His mood was too light and happy to be spoiled, and it turn the kids were happy. At seven, Karen came to the house to find Roy holding Chris upside down, arms wrapped securly around his son as Jenny hung on around his neck. They brother and sister were laughing loud, hard and uncontrollably, and Roy was grinning widely as he gently swung the two back and forth, playfully taunting them. Karen laughed and lifted Chris up so he could tickle his dad's ribs (who would have guessed Roy was ticklish there?) and kept him from hitting the floor hard when Roy had to let go. Roy lifted Jenny so she hung in his arms sideways and leaned her down to tickle both her brother and Karen and before long, they all ended up on the floor together, laughing and trying to breath at the same time.

They went to the aquarium, keeping the joy and playfulness of the morning. The kids ahead of the adults a little bit and the adults hand in hand and side by side walked through the somewhat dim hallways to peer at all the floor to ceiling tanks that housed numbers of fish, sharks, and other marine life. They went to the shallow observation center, where they could touch some urchins and starfish to their hearts content. The morning passed pleasently, and the afternoon was just as nice. They played together in the park, ignoring the wide eyed amazment of kids and the soft smiles of adults at Roy and Karen swinging and chasing the kids. They got hot dogs and sodas from a local vendor for lunch, walked the nature trail of the park, and ended with a cone of ice cream for everyone.

The day had been a wonderful family outing, and Roy was determined to make the night just as good. They got back to the house around six, cleaned a little, and then Roy kissed Karen goodbye with the promise to pick her up at eight that evening. Johnny came over to pick up the kids for the evening, picked on Roy about his date, and with the laughing reminder not to stay out past curfew, left Roy to finish getting ready.

When Roy did pick up Karen, he was breathless at her apperance. She'd dressed up before, and maybe it was just the feelings of earlier in the day, but she was absolutely amazing. Her long hair was swept up loosely, allowing a little curl to hang down, the v neck of her dress hid her curves in just the right way and revealed them in just the right way when she moved. The material didn't hug her figure, but gently flowed and shaped with it, the skirt flaring into small ruffles at the knees. The dusky lavender color brought out the color of her skin and eyes, especially her eyes. Around her neck was a silver chain with three oval deep red stones in one line, from smallest to largest. Her make up only accented her features, and when he took in everything, the end result was stunning.

Karen was just as impressed with Roy. His suit was charcole grey, which brought out the blue-gray of his eyes and accented his blonde hair. The jacket didn't hang loose on his frame, but let you know that a fairly fit man was under the cloth. He looked very put together and Karen realized with a smile that even when dressing up for dinner Roy was simple and neat. But, that was what she loved about him and in a way it was more classy than anything a man with more money and time could have tried.

The resturant was small and private, perfect for couples who wanted to just sit and enjoy dinner, conversation, and each other. The food was excellent, as was the wine, and the background music wasn't intrusive. They spent more time talking than eating, topics a wide range that was comfortable and easy.

Roy was driving back to Karen's house after dinner, but wasn't ready to let the evening end just yet. He passed a sign that informed drivers of the beach road up ahead and made an impulsive decision.

"Want to go to the beach," he asked, glancing over to Karen with a smile.

She was surprised, but smiled back. "It's too late to swim, you know."

"And too cold." He shivered dramatically and Karen laughed. "I was thinking more of a walk."

"That sounds perfect."

Roy made the turn and parked the car in the lot. As soon as they hit the sand, their shoes came off and were left near a bush of seagrass to be picked up later. They walked close to the waterline, but avoided the wetter sand. The waves moved and rolled with delicate force and the fullmoon shone on the water. The air was cool and salty, and the wind picked up a bit. Roy galantly gave Karen his jacket and she snuggled into it, loving the warmth and smell.

"Karen, I want to ask you something and if you think it's too much or something I want you to tell me, okay," Roy asked somewhat suddenly and nervously.

A bit of that nervousness transferred to Karen and she tightened her grip on the jacket around her. "Okay."

He took a deep breath like he was about to plunge underwater, then asked, "What do you think about moving in?"

Well that hadn't been what she'd expected. "What?"

"If you don't want to, I understand, that's fine. But I was hoping you would, I mean I love having you there and so do the kids, and it would be great to have you there all the time," he rushed out. "There's no pressure for anything you aren't ready for if you do move in; you can even have the guest room if you want."

"You want me to move in?" That part was a bit hard to take in.

Roy sighed. "I asked too soon, I'm sorry."

"No, no. Roy, I want to move in with you, but I also want to be sure that this is something you want and are ready for, and so are the kids," she said.

"Of course I'm sure. The kids and I already talked about it and we're agreed. And like I said, if you want you can have your own room, so there wouldn't be any pressure for something you aren't ready for."

Karen laughed softly. "If you're worried about sharing a bed, I think it's late for that." They both took a minute to remember that morning when they'd just held each other and snuggled with the kids. It was a good memory, and one Roy wanted more of.

"Karen, say you'll move in, please."

"We'll have to work out when to move my things, what to get rid of, my lease," she said smiling.

With the moonlight making her hair silver, laughter and happiness making her green eyes light, and just the pure love he had for her, Roy felt the need to kiss her. He did it slowly, taking his time, responding to her as she responded to him. It was the kind of kiss that didn't go anywhere despite the emotion and feeling and was just meant to be enjoyed. When they pulled back, Roy brought her close, putting on of her hands on his shoulder, one of his at her waist, and held her other hand in his. He slowly moved them around the sand easily.

"Roy,what are we doing," Karen asked on a breathless little laugh.

"We're dancing," he replied easily.

"There isn't any music, you know."

"So," he grinned.

Despite the lack of music, other than the waves, the wind, and the squeak of sand, the pair moved in a perfect rhythm, never faltering and never loosing step. Roy moved them closer together, leaned down to run kisses along the curve of her neck and up to her lips. Again, it wasn't the kind to go anywhere, but Karen felt goosebumps all the same. They danced together on the sand for a half hour, speaking quietly to each other but more content to just be close. Then they regretablly agreed that it was time to head home and it was with even more regret that Roy left Karen at her apartment. It was the promise of her soon living with him that allowed him to smile.

Sunday wasn't as rambunchus as the previous day, nor was it as happy. Roy had a training exercise with the fire department that couldn't be missed except for family or medical reasons, and the kids were disappointed they couldn't spend another day with their father. Full weekends were rare and when they did occur the family always spent what moments they could together. It was especially hard after such a great day previously. Roy, for his part, was a little distracted getting his gear together for the exercise but he knew his kids were in a funk. He'd hated it before Joanne's death but after he'd tried very hard to give his children good, happy days. Watching them eat breakfast with drawn faces and little enthusiasm broke his heart. He looked back to the gear sitting next to a chair in the living room, then back to his kids. With a small smile he went to his study to make a few calls.

"Kids, are you guys finished with breakfast," he asked, coming back to the kitchen. They nodded and took their plates to the sink. "Alright, look, leave those for tonight okay?" That was worth a moment of pause and astonishment. "Get your backpacks and wait for me in your rooms, alright? We're going to have to hurry before Miss Karen gets here so we won't be late."

"Daddy, what's going on," asked Jenny as she watched and helped her father go through a few things to put in her bag. A change of clothes, an extra sweater, a book. She followed him to Chris's room and watched him repeat the process with her brother.

"It's a surprise," he said with a twinkle in his eye and a wink. Chris and Jenny exchanged excited looks. Roy put some bottles of water in their bags and was getting them into their jackets when Karen arrived. She looked amused but wasn't as sure about what was going on either, which made the kids feel a little better. So that meant their dad was surprising all of them?

They all piled into the DeSoto family car and Roy drove them, singing along quietly with the radio and looking very pleased with himself. He didn't answer any of the questions about what was going on with anything more than, "You'll see."

When they pulled into the parking lot for station 51, Karen turned to him with an understanding light in her eyes. Before they went into the station, Roy stood in front of his family and looked very serious. The expression made them listen with just as much seriousness.

"I was able to talk the chief and cap into letting you come to the trainng exercise today." He held up a hand to stop the children's excited chatter. "Listen, listen. It's a building burn with evacuation and medical proceedures, so it's going to be fast paced and a little frantic. That means you'll have to pay attention to what's going on around you and to listen to Miss Karen and the other adults. You all have to stay away from the building and out of the way of firefighters and the engines. The minute any of you disobey the safety rules or put yourselves or someone else in danger, you're going home and getting grounded til you're twenty. Are we clear?" Three heads nodded. "Alright, Captain Stanley is going to give you a safety lecture, what to do in case of, and all that. Listen closely to him and remember it. Watch out for each other." He looked to Chris to watch Jenny and Karen to watch both of them. It would be hard, nearly impossible really, for him to keep an eye on them and do his job, so he was trusting and relying on them to do what he couldn't.

Captain Stanley gave the crew and family the lecture on safety and proceedures, showed them on the chalkboard diagram first aide stations, where to get water. He stressed over and over the importance of getting enough water and went over the signs with Roy on heat exhaustion, heat cramps, and heat stroke. A few more words, then the engine crew was gearing up for the ride out and Karen and the kids were waiting to follow.

The training ground was in an area where it was least likely to cause damage to any of the surrounding area or any homes. There were three concrete towers, one with two levels, another with three, and the last with four. The black patterns on the sides showed where they'd been used previously in drills. Tents were set up in various out of the way areas, some with paramedics on immediate standby just in case, and the majority with coolers full of water ready. Engines, snorkles and squads filled the area and the firemen all gathered round to hear the final debrief from the batallion chief before starting.

The third story building was prepped to be set on fire, the all clear was given, and the blaze started. The crews were given the go ahead and the exercise started. While some firemen controlled the fire with hoses and water, others went inside to begin the search sweep under the watchful eyes of a captain. Communication was a constant and the air was filled with the sounds of handie talkies going off. Two firemen came out with a fireman hanging between them, looking decidedly unhappy and the paramedics began their part of the training, also with a captain observing. Fifteen minutes into it, firemen were going to the water tents, taking off their overcoats and helmets to prevent overheating before gearing back up and going back in.

For the kids, it was an amazing sight. It was hard to watch their father because of the slight distance and the gear that all looked the same, but when they did see him a burst of pride went through them. Watching their father in action, even if it was training, wasn't something they hardly ever saw (thank God) and were properly impressed. For Karen, she knew Roy was good, but she hadn't known how good. Watching the firemen as each did their part and roated duties to even it out, she understood just how tough a fireman had to be just to get through the training exercise. They all cheered when the firemen brought out "victims", and cheered harder when the paramedics sent them a thumbs up to let them know the patient had survived, even if for the purpose of training the patient didn't make it. The fire was put out (which resulted in more cheering and clapping) and clean up started. They began more precise sweeps and entering techniques.

The firemen ate up the attention from the kids. They hammed it up a bit purely for the reactions and some antics ensued. Nothing got out of hand, everyone stayed on task, but if the group of firemen at the front entrance of the building got doused with a bucket of water from the second floor, who really minded? Not to mention the remarks of the "patients" as they were "examined" and "treated". The battalion chief and captains even got in on it a little, and all around it was generally a good atmosphere.

Roy went over to his family, jacket open and helmet in one hand a bottle of water in the other. He was sooty and smelled like smoke but he was grinning.

"Hey, how you guys doing? Having fun?" He couldn't imagine that it would be much fun watching, but from the excited looks on all three he was wrong.

"Dad, this is great. Thanks for letting us come."

"Yeah, Daddy, thank you."

Karen didn't mind the smoke and soot and pecked his cheek. "This really is fun."

Roy grinned. "Well alright. Look, we're starting on the two story. Wanna help?"

The kids looked like he told them they were getting Christmas and their birthdays all together and even Karen looked like it sounded fun.

"Oh, wow, can we? Seriously?"

"Well, me or Mr. Chet would be with you the entire time, but yeah. Mr. Mike even said you can work some gauges if you want."

It didn't seem possible for their eyes to get any wider. "Really? Really? Captain Stanley said we could?" Chris was about to jump up and down.

"Yep, so did the chief. But, if you don't want to-"

"We do," the kids fairly shouted together. "We do, we do!"

Roy laughed, finished his bottle of water, and tucked it into a pocket to throw away. "Alright, let's get you some jackets and helmets."

The jackets and helmets were too big on the kids and Karen wasn't much better. But they could ignore the sleeves over hands and the covering of eyes because they were going to work the hose and the gauges. They did it one at a time so it would be safer, and Roy crouched beside Jenny and helped her hold the hose with one hand and kept another on her shoulder. They weren't near a bad area of the fire, and Mike kept the pressure low enough that it didn't cause the little girl to stumble. When Chris took his turn, he was like an old pro, listening to his father's shouted instructions and following the guide of his hand. Karen wasn't as sure as the kids, feeling a little aprehensive about weilding something that could literally knock you on your butt. Roy braced her, helped her control the hose, and within seconds Karen was laughing and enjoying herself.

The gauges were a little harder, and Mike had to explain alot of things over and over again. He didn't mind, just kept up with the same patience while Roy and Chet worked the hose.

When lunch time rolled around, everyone complimented Karen and the kids on their skills as firefighters and teased Roy that his kids might work under him when he was captain someday. Roy didn't seem to mind that thought at all if the way he puffed up was any indication. They ate their sandwiches and drank their water while telling stories of past runs and past experiences at the different stations they'd worked, making sure to include Karen and the kids.

"Hey, you know how you can tell someone is a firefighter," asked one of the guys with a grin.

"Ok, I'll bite," Chet replied.

"You can tell what type of fire it is by the smell of the smoke ten miles away," he chuckled. Everyone laughed and commented on how true that was.

"You know, there was this one time during Christmas when the captain next to me played out jingle bells on the air horn to clear traffic," laughed one of the engineers.

More stories were passed around, and it came to a close when one captain reminised about the time he told a woman off after she screamed and raged at him. The battallion chief ended the little 'pow wow' with the advice that if it felt good to say it at the time, it was probably something you shouldn't have said.

Karen and the kids stayed as long as possible, but left an hour after lunch. The kids had homework to be finished and checked and school to prepare for. It was pretty obvious none of them wanted to leave, and the firefighters were a bit reluctant too, but in the end it was agreed it was the best. The kids thanked the batallion chief and Captain Stanley over and over again, swearing that the kids would be jealous once they heard. Karen was a bit more sedate in her thanks, but not less exuberant. She kissed Roy goodbye, they both ignored the whistles and comments, and they left with the promise to pick Roy up when he was finished. The kids continued to watch from the car until nothing could be seen.

The kids were asleep, the dishes were clean and put away, his laundry was done and Roy was relaxing on the couch with the t.v. quietly on in the background. Karen was tucked in against his side and dozing. Occassionally, he leaned down to press a kiss to her head and she would sigh happily and worm closer.

Yeah, Roy thought again. The future definetly wasn't going to be too hard as long as he had his family.

**Black-Angel-001: i'm not a firefighter, as stated previously so i have no idea how a training exercise would go. i totally winged it and to any actual firefighters out there who read this, please feel free to correct me if it needs it. we saw very little of johnny, but this is the first time i've ever done the desoto+karen moment in such a way as this. i hope you enjoyed the romance and family fun! to my good friend hotflash, hope this has made you happy and lived up to your dreams!**

***under the 2009 Florida Statues, vehicular manslaughter of the first degree and second degree is a captial felony in which the death penalty can be used if the proceedings decide the penalty is warrented. otherwise, life imprisonment with no possibility of parole is applied, or the person can be fined with a jail sentance. the penalty is slightly different for repeat offenders. the part about the community service hours is true; a judge can order it along with any other punishment if they see fit.**


	25. Chapter 25

**Saving Me**

**Black-Angel-001: oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh! it's the last chapter! -running around excitedly but then stops and blushes- sorry, but while i am a little (make that a teensy weensy bit) sad to see this story end (what author isn't?) i am SO FRIGGIN' HAPPY THAT IT'S ALMOST OVER! bwuahahaha, no more endless nights-mornings!-researching drugs, AA/NA sayings, rehab, and no more agonizing over what in the world is gonna happen! ... i am WAY too happy about this aren't i? -evil/sheepish grin-**

**Saving Me**

_"And life is a road that I want to keep going, love is a river I wanna keep flowing, life is a road, now and forever wonderful journey. I'll be there when the world stops turning, I'll be there when the storm is through. In the end I wanna be standing at the beginning with you."_ -Richard Marx/Donna Lewis, _'At the beginning'_

It would take about a month for Karen to move in; her lease was month by month, and as soon as it was up she would move in to the DeSoto residence. Until then, they would go through both their things to throw out, keep, or otherwise move to storage so the moving process was easier. It also gave Roy time to finalize on certain payments he was making.

He'd found it a few months ago and before he knew it he was making arrangments on a payment plan. He was able to finally get it two weeks after the training exercise, and ever since it felt like it had been burning a hole in his pocket. Roy constantly took it out, checked his pockets to make sure it was still there, and kept wondering if maybe he shouldn't have picked something different. His friends and shiftmates were, frankly, a little tired of hearing about it. They all encouraged Roy to handle it as soon as possible.

Roy took their advice to heart.

Roy took Karen out in the early wee hours to a Bellingrath Gardens*, just before sunrise, with two blankets and a thermos of coffee. He spread one blanket out on the great lawn in the direction where the sun would rise, wrapped them both in the other, and poured a cup of the steaming coffee for both of them to help ward off the chill. Even at that time of morning, the air was filled with the smell of the flowers surrounding the edge of the lawn: golden rods, chrysanthemum, camellia's, oleaster, wintersweet, and more mixing and gentle. Somewhere nearby was the sound of a fountain and flowing water, and the edge of the rose garden could be made out. Birds began chirping in preperation of the day and slowly, ever so slowly it seemed, the sky began to change color and the stars faded in the morning light.

"Roy, what are we doing here," Karen whispered, feeling that was appropriate somehow.

Roy tightened his arm around her briefly. "Watching the sunrise," he whispered back. They sat there together for some time, sipping coffee and holding each other. When the sun was starting to peek through the moss covered oak trees, Roy shifted away so he was kneeling on both knees in front of Karen, who was watching him carefully. Reaching in his pocket, he clutched at the small velvet box there and cleared his throat.

"Karen, we've known each other for a little more than a year now, and we met through circumstances that...weren't really the best." He cleared his throat again. "But the times since then, those were the best, despite the occassional fight and misunderstanding. You've been a great help to me and the kids, and it's been...," he trailed off and looked away.

For Karen, his words were sweet but also brought dread. Was he saying he wanted to end their relationship? Had he changed his mind about her moving in?

Roy pulled the box out of his pocket, kept it hidden in his fist. He shifted nervously, looking for the right words to say. " You're this...incredible bright spot in my life. Somehow when I wasn't looking, you wormed your way in my life, in the lives of my kids, and honestly, I don't think I could go back to a time where you weren't there. It's been amazing getting to know you. I still don't know everything about you, but...Karen, I could probably live for a hundred years and not know everything about you, but I'd like to try anyway."

Tears gathered in Karen's eyes as Roy spoke, from happiness. She gasped when Roy opened his hand between them and a small jewlers box was revealed. Carefully, Roy opened the lid.

"Karen, please let me try for those hundred years. Let me wake up and see you every morning, let me hear about your day, let me raise our children with you. I want more dances on the beach, more trips to the aquarium, more of just loving you and everything you'll give me. Please, marry me?"

All she could do was stare at the ring inside. The oval diamond glintted with beautiful effect in the morning sunrise, and the two round cut garnets added a little color to the diamond and the white gold setting. Karen could hardly believe the beauty of the ring, the beauty of the words. She looked up at Roy, crying happily, and threw her arms around his neck, laughing and crying at the same time.

"Yes, God, yes!" She leaned away and kissed him, hugged him again. "Roy, yes!"

Roy hugged her tighter laughing with her and trying to ignore the sting in his own eyes. When he put the ring on her finger, it was like a missing part was replaced. They held onto each other, kissing, crying, laughing, smiling, and watched the rest of the sunrise, ignoring the blanket and coffee. They were both content to stay in the warmth of each other and the smell of the flowers as the sun made the day brighter.

The picnic with all the different stations was full of fun, food, and good company. The women fawned over Karen's engagment ring, the men clapped Roy's back and kissed Karen's cheek, and everyone patiently let the couple indulge in their happiness. The DeSoto children were incredibly happy as well, if the way they kept smiling and proudly announcing that their dad and Miss Karen were getting married was any indication. The date hadn't been set yet, but it was only a matter of time. For the moment, though, the entire family was happy to just be.

It was when lunch was being served that Johnny looked at his friends from 51 and his best friend and cleared his throat, gaining their attention.

"Uh, I wanted you guys to know. I've decided to go into the arson investigation squad*," he said like he doubted the news would be recieved well. "It's just, I can't get my paramedic certification again, the hospital wouldn't allow me to do anything without constant supervision, and I just don't want the temptation to be there," he rambled.

"So, why not stick with an engine," asked Chet, not unkindly. He was honestly curious.

"Because some of the guys don't trust me. I mean, I can understand why and all, and I don't want to cause problems," Johnny explained. He glanced nervously between his friends. "It's not like I'll be leaving the department or anything, and I'll still see you guys...right?"

Roy shook his head. "Johnny, of course you're still gonna see us. When's the transfer?"

"Not for another couple of weeks. Paper work, y'know?"

Roy shook Johnny's hand. "Congratualtions, partner." He meant every word, and so did the rest of 51. "Well, I've got more news too. I'm going to take the engineers exam again."

"What? Why?"

"It's just time to move on, I think." He wouldn't tell them that while Bobby was a good partner, he just didn't want to go through the job without his best friend there. He might tell Johnny though.

When the day was over, after everyone had gone home Roy and his family, including Johnny, were sitting and enjoying each other's company. Roy went to the kitchen to get more drinks and paused at the white envelope sitting on the table with rest of the mail, innocently addressed to Joanne. Frowning, Roy picked it up, opened it, and read it. As he did, his frown got deeper and deeper. Chris laughed in the living room and Roy's eyes shot to the doorway. He put the lette back in the envelope, but it in a drawer of junk, and went back to his family, trying to ignore the unsettling feeling he got over getting a letter from Chris's biological father.

END

**Black-Angel-001: that's it! it's done! that's all there is there is no more! thanks to everyone who stuck with this story, even though they didn't like some of the content. thankies thanks to everyone who reviewed! special thanks especially to hotflash, my very good friend who has been a constant encouragment and support when this story almost got the best of me and was great inspiration! another special thanks to crockettsgirl, who has given me help and direction so i could have realism! her knowledge of drug abuse and treatment has been a lifesaver, along with her kind and encouraging words! THANK YOU BOTH!**

***Bellingrath Gardens and Home is located in Moblie, Alabama and is a popular place at any time of year. They have flowers in bloom every season, and Christmas lights during the Christmas season. It's divided into different areas and has been through many years of rebuilding from time and hurricanes. Some of the flowers mentioned bloom there at the Great Lawn (which is a large grassy area surrounded by flowers and a stone walkway) and is popular for picnics. Bellingrath is also a popular place for weddings, receptions, and other social events. if you are ever in the area, i highly recomend it.**

***Randolph Mantooth had a role in MacGyver in which he played a lead arson investigator (sadly the character dies); my mom actually suggested this to me, so thanks to her!**

**Black-Angel-001: i am currently researching for another e! fic, which will be tied to this, but not quite a sequal. i don't know when i'll write it, much less publish it, but i hope to see you all there when that adventure begins! peace out and love forever!**


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